One, Two, Skip a Few
by moonlight.gabriel
Summary: .:Hitsuhina Oneshot Collection:. Theme 20 - Silence: The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence. Toshiro's not one to talk, but he always manages to get the message across.
1. Future, Mirai

Well I wanted to do a series of themed one-shots for a while now. Ideas are spawning here and there, demanding that I write them down XD My first goal is 10 and my long term goal is 50, and when (if) I reach that, it'll be the end of "One, Two, Skip a Few". But then my long, LONG term goal is 100, so if I ever get around to that I'll be putting up another lot of 50 Hitsuhina-oneshots! However, if I never get around to completing my goal, at least there won't be any cliffhangers! One-shots are complete in themselves.

**Disclaimer:** I do not own Bleach.

* * *

**Theme 1: Future/Mirai  
**"_If you excessively worry about the future, then you may soon find yourself without one to worry about." – Snowy Peach Tsubasa_

* * *

What is it about the lines on your palm, a large crystal ball and the soggy remains of tea leaves that have people believing that they can foresee the future? Is it just the seemingly dark unknown that frightens the living daylights out of souls, making them mindlessly seek out the answer? Daily horoscopes, tarot cards, omens; you name it, people flock to it. Some can't help but indulge in it for simple amusement, believing such things are rather silly. Yet when so called coincidence strikes, they can't help but be roped in.

So on one end we have the firm believers of the so called processes of fortune telling. On the other we have people like Toshiro Hitsugaya that refuse to consider tea leaves as anything else but blackish dregs. Somewhere in the middle are people like Rangiku Matsumoto and Momo Hinamori, who partake in the occasional fortune telling session and daily horoscope just for the fun of it; and at the expense of the (just under) five feet tall taichou.

* * *

"Ohayou taichou!" Matsumoto cheerfully yelled as she walked into the office.

"Your paperwork's over there," Toshiro replied.

"No, I've already got my papers!"

Matsumoto waved the day's edition of the Seireitei News about in the air and promptly flopped down on the couch. Almost immediately the major events, editorial and any other pages deemed unimportant were crumpled up and discarded behind her. Toshiro glared daggers at the couch backing, decreasing the general temperature of the room and covering the balls of greyish paper in a delicate coating of ice. Matsumoto mildly glanced at him before returning to her paper. She flipped a page and took a minute to read its contents before letting out an audible gasp. Toshiro smirked, thinking the cold had gotten to his lazy fukutaichou.

"Taichou! It's says here that today's meant to be a nice and warm day! You shouldn't go around changing the temperature! Who knows what they might do to poor Shuuhei?!"

Toshiro twitched and closed his eyes, trying to remain cool, calm and collected. The internal battle was not to his favour; a large anger vein had appeared on his head and he clenched his hands into fists. Five hours of sleep the pervious night was not doing him any good either. In fact, it was probably the source for this morning's short temper.

"Ah Momo-chan! So good to see you!"

The barely controlled anger was instantly subdued and Toshiro looked over towards the door, only to see it vacant. Matsumoto let out a hearty laugh at his expense and proceeded to throw all kind of implications at him. His eye twitched but a sigh came out of his mouth; he would just ignore her. They were both better off with that arrangement. A few minutes passed and the only sounds were the flipping of pages and Matsumoto's occasional remark. She smoothed out the page in front of her and propped her elbows on the couch back, leaving her hands holding the paper dangling down.

"Taichou, you're a Sagittarius right? Which is kind of strange seeing as it's a fire sign and you're born in winter and hate the heat, oh! And let's not forget about Hyorinmaru or the fact t-"

"Get to the point already!" Toshiro interrupted.

"Just proving my point taichou. Well here's your horoscope for the week!' Jupiter, your ruling planet, will be shadowed by Saturn. Therefore take caution on the seemingly insignificant objects around you. This week shall not be pleasant for those who walk inattentively."

Matsumoto looked up. "At least you're well informed taichou!"

"Better tell Hisagi-fukutaichou to stop writing the news when drunk."

"You're so tense taichou!" whined Matsumoto. "It's just a little fun, loosen up!"

"Keh! Some people will believe anything."

Toshiro dipped his brush into its inkwell and was poised to write when a gust of wind blew in, scattering several papers off the desk. He groaned in annoyance and slid off his chair to retrieve the fallen sheets. After gathering the sheets, he moved his hand with the intention of grabbing onto the wooden surface. However, he grabbed onto an overhanging piece of paper instead. Of course the result was that that piece of paper came sliding off the desk. Now that in itself wouldn't be so much of a problem had the inkwell not been resting on top of said piece of paper.

_Splash!_

_Klunk!_

Matsumoto looked up to see her taichou's lovely white hair half covered in black ink. In her eyes he looked like a squished onigiri (A/N: riceball). Peals of laughter rang throughout the room when Toshiro resurfaced, his frustrated expression and heavy scowl completing the look. It was at that moment Momo decided to pay them a visit.

"Ohayou Rangiku-san, Hitsugaya-"

Momo stopped mid-sentence when she got a good look at her childhood friend sulking behind his desk. A small trail of ink leaked onto his face, creating a black line down the centre. Momo placed her hand over her mouth and tried not to laugh.

"Ah, is this some kind of new look Hitsugaya-kun?" she teasingly asked.

"Shut up baka."

Toshiro walked towards the bathroom in a huff.

"Oh, watch out Shiro-chan!"

"Watch out for what Bed Wetter?" Toshiro asked as he took another step forward.

His foot slid out underneath him and a second later his world was sideways. Toshiro sat up and growled at whatever made him trip. It was the previously ice covered ball of paper that was now a soggy lump. Damn that Matsumoto.

"So taichou, do you believe in your horoscope now?"

"No!"

"Eh? Not even for fun Shiro-chan?"

"No!"

And not even after the week where Toshiro had many misfortunate incidents involving an empty bottle of sake, his captain's haori and a paper plane made him change his mind.

* * *

"Matsumoto, Hinamori...tell me again...why am I here?" Toshiro asked in a deadly calm voice. "I fail to see any hollows."

"Well let's put it this way taichou. You were tricked!"

"Matsumoto! I swear when we get back to Sei-"

Momo latched onto his arm. "Shh, Hitsugaya-kun!"

Her eyes moved discreetly towards the direction of the middle aged fortune teller sitting in the midst of purple satin, black crystals and lavender incense. She eyed the trio strangely before folding her hands together.

"Speak to me my dears. Who has come for their fortune?"

"Him!"

Matsumoto pushed Toshiro down into the chair and before he could even begin to complain, the fortune teller was humming a low note. She closed her eyes and picked up half the deck in front of her, placing it to the right of the original one. One by one from alternating piles, she laid six cards facing down.

"It's freaky," Toshiro heard Matsumoto whisper to Momo. "I went here last time and everything she said came true!"

"Really Rangiku-san? I should come here next time."

"Don't bother," Toshiro muttered. "It's just a fancy scheme to make money."

"Silent! You are disturbing the spirits housed within the tarots. I cannot hear their whispered calls."

Toshiro slid down into his seat and grumbled. How could he have let Matsumoto and Bed Wetter drag him into a pointless ten minutes with a demented old lady who could "hear the spirits within". Right now he could be doing paperwork or training or kissing M- Toshiro smacked his head; the stuffy, smelly room was getting to him.

"They have spoken!" the fortune teller said dramatically.

She flipped over the first card to reveal a mermaid sitting on a rock. "Hmm, not good, not good at all."

She proceeded to flip over the rest, each time muttering something along the lines of "not good" or "oh dear". Toshiro didn't get it. Besides from the mermaid card, there was also a picture of a bird's nest with young chicks, a rainbow, a starry night sky with a crescent moon, a peaceful looking meadow that he wished he was at right now and a funny looking dog. How in the world did all this add up to "not good" and "oh dear"? The fortune teller sighed sympathetically and swept up the cards.

"It seems ill will falls on you today my dear. I sense hostility and a dark, evil aura. Claws from hell shall rip asunder and the result? I do not know. Good day."

She dismissed them with a wave of her hands. Some fortune teller she was! Toshiro gladly rose from his seat and pushed through the beaded curtains. Matsumoto and Momo followed behind him, telling him to be careful. He told them not to be stupid before walking outside, right into the path of a hollow.

"You've got to be kidding me!!"

* * *

Momo knocked on the wooden door and entered the tenth division office. She went over to the desk and placed the book she was carrying on it. Toshiro looked up and eyed the book; it was about palm reading. He sighed and ran a hand through his hair.

"No," he plainly stated before she could even ask.

"Shiro-chan, it doesn't hurt! I've been practising so please? Just this once?"

Toshiro caved in and he reluctantly stuck out his hand, turning to face the other way with a little scowl. Momo clapped her hands together and thanks him. She held his hand tenderly in both of hers and took a moment to just enjoy it. Before he could realise what she was doing, she quickly flipped through the book for reference.

"Okay, so this is your life line," she said, tracing a line on his palm with a finger. She took a closer look at it. "It fades a little in the middle so you will experience an unwanted turning point at one stage in life, but after that you're okay!"

"Funny, I wonder if that unwanted turning point was when I died on Earth," Toshiro said dryly.

Momo giggled. "Your health line is strong Shiro-chan, so you don't have to worry about it at all. Unohana-taichou will be happy!"

She flicked through the book from time to time, telling Toshiro of his other lines. She traced on line on his palm and looked at it for a while.

"Your love line...is clear. You already know who you love and any relationship you start will be long lasting and full of happiness." She smiled. "That's what my line was too."

"Hmp, and a single line can tell you that? I don't believe it."

"But why?"

"It's childish to think something like a small indent on your skin can tell the future."

"Even if it's a good fortune, you still won't believe in it Shiro-chan?" Momo said dejectedly.

"What does it mat-"

"But it's true! I love you Shiro-chan!"

Silence hung in the air between them; it was almost deafening. Momo covered her mouth with her hands, shocked that she had actually said what she said. Tears welled up in her eyes when she didn't see any form of reaction from Toshiro. She turned around to leave but he held her back.

"Do you want to know why I don't believe in fortune telling?"

Momo didn't reply; she only sniffed and tried to wipe away the fallen stray tears. Toshiro walked around and wiped the remainder away.

"Because every time I look at you I see my future."

* * *

Well that's one out of the way! Yay! Oh BTW to all the people I review for: I probably won't be having much time since school starts tomorrow T-T But I promise I will get around to it! Who knows, they might not give me much work (in denial).

A note on this: updates will be sporadic: it depends on my workload and of course if I'm afflicted with writer's block. But please review! It'll help motivate me!


	2. Nightmare, Akumu

Anonymous reviewers: I 3 ur story (Sorry, this thing won't let me put in the HTML bracket thingys)  
Thank you very much for taking the time to send in a review! I really appreciate it!

**

* * *

**

**Theme 2: Nightmare/Akumu  
**"_Night has become so painful for me. It brings to light the regrets of the day." – Grey Livingston_

* * *

Fukutaichou of fifth division, Momo Hinamori, was currently sitting at her desk with a hand on her cheek and sweeping the brush across the page with her other. Today her paperwork stack was small, unusually small. But really, who ever questions less work? She paused, set down her brush and picked up the paper, squinting at the words printed on.

_No, no, that's right._

She set the paper down on the table and finished filling it out. After the mark of fifth division was placed upon it, she moved it into her "done" pile. Deciding that a break was in order, she put the brush in its inkwell and stretched her arms back. Her bones cracked satisfyingly and she pushed herself off the hard chair. Really, Seireitei should get better chairs for their top shinigamis. Momo giggled at the thought of all the taichous and fukutaichous retiring early because of back problems. The reactions would be...interesting. She shook her head; she shouldn't be thinking of such things!

_Let's see how Shiro-chan's doing!_

In an unexplainable cheerful mood, Momo skipped out of her office and onto the wooden walkways where she resumed walking like any normal shinigami. Most of the other shinigamis waved to her and sent them their greetings, all of them which she returned. The sun was shining, her work load was minuscule and she was known as the friendliest fukutaichou around. Life was good.

She walked into the tenth division building and many of its shinigami waved to her as well. Some that were more acquainted with the dark haired girl asked her if she was here to see Toshiro, as that was often the case. Everyone knew they were old childhood friends. She replied with her usual yes and went on her way. When she entered the hallway where the tenth division office laid, she heard a loud racket and had no doubts of where it originated from. Not in the least intimidated, she pulled open the door and walked in.

"Konnichiwa Rangiku-san, Hitsugaya-kun!"

To no surprise, Toshiro was sitting at his desk glaring daggers at Matsumoto who was lying in the midst of sake bottles. What was a surprise was that Renji sat along with her.

"Oh, konnichiwa to you to Abarai-kun!"

The slightly drunk pair waved merrily to her while Toshiro closed his eyes and muttered "Hitsugaya-taichou Bed Wetter" over and over again. Momo walked over to him and got into his face, yelling out "Hitsugaya-kun". He cut his chant short and glared at her before resuming his work. Matsumoto waved about a nearly full, uncorked sake bottle about in the air. Its contents were dangerous sloshing about and some flew out.

"Oy! Stop wastin' me good ol' sake Rangiku!" Renji called out, cupping his hand a meter away from the falling liquid.

"Ehehe, I love me good ol' sake too Renji!"

"Along with ye good ol' foxy face!"

"Ye got that right m'boy!"

Toshiro and Momo both raised an eyebrow. Here Matsumoto wasn't entirely drunk yet and she was not hesitating to declare the love of her life to the world. Momo giggled a little.

"You love Gin?"

"Yepa! Tha's right! Now hear ye, hear ye! Who does Momo-chan looooove?"

"Me? Rangiku-san, I've told you a lot of times already that I don't love anyone." Momo said cheerfully without hesitation.

"Righty-o! Now I hafta put ye with someone ne? Urrrm...wha' about me sweet lil' taichou over yonder? Renji?"

"Nah! Too short!"

He attempted to put more emphasis in his words by moving his hands about, but due to his impaired balance, he ended up toppling over onto Matsumoto.

"C'mon Matsumoto-san," Momo said, using her friend's last name to get across some seriousness. "We've gone through that a lot too. You even said it yourself."

"Oh yeah!" she exclaimed cheerfully under the weight of a certain redhead, not seeming to mind in the slightest. "Nah, not taichou. Ye're just childhood bubbies affta all!"

"For once I have to agree with you Matsumoto, although I can't believe it's when you're drunk."

"Awww, I love ye too taichou!"

Momo giggled as she watched the two bicker back and forth like a fast paced table tennis match. Yes, life was good. She couldn't ask for better friends than the ones in the room, especially Toshiro. They went back since as long as she could remember and they saw through thick and thin together. A closeness was shared between them like that of a brother and sister. Everyone in the Seireitei knew they were the best of friends.

Nothing more.

* * *

Deep into the night, the silence in two rooms were simultaneously broken. Momo Hinamori and Toshiro Hitsugaya sat up like they had been electrocuted. The former of the two was clutching her sheets in distress and panting heavily while the latter had his hand curled up into tight fists, glaring down and refusing to let his fear show. Their hearts were beating like they had just done a strenuous run. How ironic, that something as light and frothy as that dream could cause such a negative reaction. Confessions still laid hidden deep within their hearts but for Momo, she could not imagine her life without her feelings towards Toshiro. For Toshiro, he could not bear the thought of Momo seeing him as just a friend and nothing more.

No, this wasn't a dream.

It was a nightmare.

* * *

Well not really any confessions, lovey dovey Hitsuhina or blah, but this idea was, how shall I say it? Very stubborn XD I hope you readers enjoyed it all the same though. Oh, and I've made the status "completed" because well one-shots are completed in themselves and I'm not sure whether I'd ever reach my goal, lol. Well please review, thank you!


	3. Kitchen, Daidokoro

:D Big thank you to everyone who reveiwed since my last update! Here is the next theme!

* * *

**Theme 3: Kitchen/Daidokoro  
**"_Red meat is not bad for you. Blue-green meat, now that's bad for you!" – Tommy Smothers_

* * *

Toshiro Hitsugaya looked around the alien room in awe – no wait, his reputation must be kept whole and intact. Toshiro Hitsugaya looked around the alien room with _mild_ interest. Yes, that should do it. Maybe sitting around in an office all day did have more detrimental effects than what he initially thought; with that initial sum being zero. Perhaps Matsumoto did occasionally speak the truth, sober or drunk...or both.

Emerald orbs slowly took in the simple layout of the room they called a kitchen. The white plastic-like bench tops were made sleek by the sunlight that came through the translucent sunroof on the ceiling and the large windows on all three remaining walls. Of the many appliances in there, he only recognised the large, stainless steel refrigerator sitting near the sink; and it was only because Matsumoto bought back a mini version of it from her trip to the human world. It was out of extreme interest for the things Seireitei's kitchens didn't have, she said. It was so she didn't have to move to get her human world drinks, he said.

Well in any case, here he was now, standing next to Momo in the tenth division's kitchen which he stubbornly denied he knew nothing about (Momo always though people exaggerated when they said he never got out...). Having a completely different reaction to her friend's, Momo clapped her hands in delight upon seeing the spotless room. She grabbed Toshiro's wrist and dragged him over to the silver fridge. Brimming with excitement, she grabbed hold of the handle with both hands and opened it like a small child would.

"Wow," she exclaimed with her head stuck in. "Look at all this food! It's all fresh."

Momo pulled her head back out and looked at Toshiro. "I still can't believe you didn't know about this Hitsugaya-kun."

"Taichou, Hitsugaya-taichou Bed Wetter. And since I'm a taichou," he said through gritted teeth, stressing out a particular two syllable word, "I am constantly kept busy."

"Sure, whatever you say Hitsugaya-taichou. I completely understand why a taichou such as yourself wouldn't know the complete layout of his own division," Momo said cutely.

Toshiro humphed and turned his back towards her with a bright red face. Momo let out a laugh and closed the magnetic door of the fridge, bending down to open a wooden door of a cupboard. She placed new, unopened bags of flour and sugar out on the floor next to her as she searched deeper inside. Occasionally she would come across a particular ingredient that was worthy of an exclamation. She placed a couple of things such as flour, sugar and baking soda on the counter above her and stowed the rest away. Shuffling over, she opened the next cupboard.

"Hitsugaya-kun? Can you please get the eggs and butter out for me?"

'Yeah, whatever."

Toshiro opened the fridge and saw a cornucopia of foodstuff in every colour. Down the bottom in the see-through drawers were leafy green bok choy and lettuce, bright red tomatoes and long, orange carrots tied up in a bunch; and that was just to name a few. On the shelves there were packets of soft and supple looking Hokkien noodles and lightly floured pale dumpling skins, jars of jams, sauces and preserved fruit, butter, eggs, milk (low-fat, lactose free, soy, chocolate); it was enough to make his head spin. Carefully, he pushed the various things out of the way to reach a block of butter.

"Are you lost or something Shiro-chan?" Momo looked over the cupboard door and tilted her head curiously, wondering why it was taking her Shiro-chan so long to find two things. "Do you not know what butter and eggs are?"

The white haired prodigy whipped around at that insult to his intelligence. "Baka! Of course I know what they are! See!" He held out his hand with the butter. "I have the butter!" he proclaimed.

"Good job!"

An eye twitched; she was complimenting him like a child! In his head there was a chibi Toshiro with a huge head, even for a chibi. It was stomping around indignantly, making the earth crack and lightening come down. Older Toshiro shooed them away and returned to his search for eggs mumbling and grumbling. He closed the fridge door and set down his block of butter and a dozen eggs on the countertop just as Momo placed down all the required cooking utensils. She flicked through her favourite cookbook that she had brought along and set it against the wall.

"Here we go! We're going to make chocolate chip cookies," she said brightly.

"C-Cookies?"

Toshiro froze. Apart from having a self-proclaimed aversion to anything sweet, sugary and childish, he could just imagine the reaction from Ukitake-taichou if he were to find out that the younger Shiro-chan was baking cookies. Chocolate chip cookies. The thirteenth division taichou would probably make Hisagi-fukutaichou publish a special edition of the Seireitei News featuring a lengthy account of how the icy cold tensai finally came out of his self-denial.

"Ano...let's make two batches!" Momo said, completely ignoring Toshiro's reaction. "You have time, right Hitsugaya-kun?"

"Hmph."

That was seriously the best answer he could give her. His work load was suspiciously low today, so yes, he had the free time. And no matter how much that little voice denied it, if he could, he would spend any free time with his beautiful childhood friend...who wet the bed. However, him? Toshiro Hitsgaya, the stoic and cold tenth division taichou of the Gotei 13, baking cookies? There were so many things wrong with that; one of them being he had absolutely no idea of how to bake or cook...or use any of those foreign appliances.

Toshiro Hitsugaya + Cooking equals A Recipe for Disaster

Momo ignored said piece of logic and clapped her hands together. The fact that Toshiro had failed to move an inch towards the exit was proof enough for her that he would much rather stay, albeit making cookies. Rolling her sleeves up, she walked over to the sink and washed her hands.

"Hitsugaya-kun, you better take off your haori and come wash your hands."

"Hn, fine Bed Wetter."

A look over the shoulder and he saw that the door was closed. A little more relaxed, he calmly took off his sleeveless captain's haori and tossed it on the top of the fridge. As he was washing his hands, Momo was busy sorting out the ingredients and utensils into two identical piles. He walked over to his workspace next to Momo and picked up the first packet he saw. It was the chocolate chips; he scowled down at the poor, defenceless things.

"Alright, now the first thing we do is preheat the oven. 180 degrees should do it," Momo instructed.

The apparent tensai followed the petite girl over to a pair of identical ovens set at a comfortable length in the wall. He stood in front of the rectangular appliance with its knobs and buttons lined on the side, taunting him; he had no idea what to do. Through his peripheral vision he tried to follow what Momo was doing while keeping his dignity intact, but she was done in a flash. She looked towards him and smiled sweetly before walking off, leaving him struggling in his sea of confusion. Light pink crawled onto his face and he glanced towards her direction.

_No, I'm not asking her for help. I absolutely refuse._

He eyed the knobs once again and suddenly a little switch with a flame caught his eye. Grinning in victory, he flicked it on. Nothing obvious happened and he contemplated on fiddling around with the other dials; he decided against taking unnecessary risks. Instead – he pulled open the door and peaked inside for a second; something smelled strange...

"Hado no ni," he whispered. "Hibana."

_WHOOSH!_

Emerald eyes widened to unnatural proportions as the extremely small spark he conjured instantly turned into an inferno of whipping oranges and yellows. They licked up the sides and threatened to jump straight out. He slammed the door shut just as Momo came over, attracted by the loud noise. She tried to peer around Toshiro and into the oven concealed by his back. Toshiro was looking sheepishly to the side, keeping his back firmly to the door.

"What's wrong Hitsugaya-kun?"

"N-nothing Hinamori."

No; he didn't even want to imagine what she'd say if she found out he couldn't even do something as simple as preheating an oven! Through a stroke of luck, as he shuffled around to better hide the chaotic flames, he flicked the gas switch off. He let out a discreet sigh of relief when he heard the flames sizzle and die down. Swiftly, he detached himself from the wall and grabbed Momo's wrist, pulling her back to the counter.

"C'mon, let's get back to it," he muttered.

"I knew you'd like baking eventually."

_I haven't even mixed two things together and I already hate it!_

Something slid over on the countertop and Toshiro looked down; two small bowls of butter and raw sugar already measured were sitting in front of him. Momo took two electric mixers out from their boxes and plugged them into the nearby power outlet.

"Next we have to mix the butter and sugar in a large bowl," Momo chirped.

That was easy enough. Phase one was completed; the butter and sugar were safely in the bowl. Now for phase two. Toshiro picked up the mixer and examined it. There was a small switch that could be slid up and down. Numbers ranging from one to five were printed on the side. Now it really didn't take a genius to figure out how to use this thing they call an electric mixer. He slid it all the way up to number five and the pair of metal beaters whirled into action. Toshiro plunged it into the bowl.

_SPLAT!_

He blinked; a piece of butter and sugar was stuck right between his eyes, with more chunks flying out from the bowl. The beaters clacked loudly against the glass, making both his hand and the bowl vibrate intensely. Luckily he managed to grab it (and what little left inside) before it fell off the edge. He turned the crazy machine off and quickly set it down. When Momo turned to look at his progress, she was greeted with the amusing sight of Toshiro splattered with the pale butter and sugar mixture. Her giggles soon escalated into loud laughter that rang through the room. Toshiro flicked a piece of pale yellow at her and waited for calm to return.

"Shiro-chan, are you sure you know how to do this?"

"Of course you baka!" he lied through his teeth. "You don't think I can do something like this?"

"No, not really," was her immediate, blunt reply. However, she followed it up with a laugh, showing that she was at least half-joking.

Her eyes swept across where the ingredients laid and let out a cry. "I forgot the vanilla!"

Without delay, she opened the cupboards and threw whatever was in her way on the countertop. Frankly, as Toshiro watched the flurry of activity, he thought it was rather silly how Momo was getting worked up over one small ingredient.

"Found it!" she sang, holding up her prize high in the sunlight.

However, before she or Toshiro could do anything else, a Jigoku Chou flew through the open window and fluttered around Momo's head. She extended her hand and it promptly landed, giving its purple wings a dainty flap before relaying its message.

"Momo-chan!" The unmistakeable voice of Matsumoto issued from the tiny messenger. "It's horrible Momo-chan! You have to help me-ahhh! Let go of me Renji!"

The next minute of audio was incomprehensible shouts and crashes in the background. Momo wondered how this little Jigoku Chou managed to survive while recording Matsumoto's message in that hectic frenzy. It seemed to be getting a little tired from remaining motionless, with its mouth wide open.

"I'm free! Ahhh, okay Momo-chan! Get down to the Seireitei Lil Sake Bar ASAP! Kira and Renji are re-enacting their Academy days, DRUNK! Y'hear me?! And I KNOW you've handled this before, so pl-AHHHH! KIRA! IF I HEAR O-"

The message cut off abruptly and the Jigoku Chou gratefully closed its mouth and flew off, leaving Momo and Toshiro with gaping mouths.

"W-well," Momo said uncertainly. "I think I'd better go help Rangiku-san. Kira and Renji sure are a handful when drunk. I should know..."

Momo eyes lost focus as she though back to her not-so-pleasant memories. She snapped herself out of it fairly quickly and jogged towards the door. Her hand was on the handle when she turned around.

"You can continue without me if you want Hitsugaya-kun! But try not to blow the kitchen up! I'll be back!"

"Oi! Taichou!" he yelled as a response and parting.

Momo smiled and tapped a spot just under her left cheek. The door closed shut and Toshiro wiped a sticky smudge off his left cheek, as indicated, before turning back around. He contemplated on his situation for a good minute. Was it a good idea to bake without Momo here? Toshiro scowled at his own thoughts. What was he thinking? Certainly he did not require Momo's help for such a simple task! And she even had the gall to insinuate his "nonexistent" culinary skills! Challenge accepted! He shoved aside the many ingredients left out (courtesy of Momo) and reached for the hard-covered recipe book.

_**Add the vanilla essence and eggs into the butter mixture and beat until light and fluffy.**_

Great. He'd have to use that crazy machine again. As he moved to put the book back against the wall, his elbow hit a box, sending it tilting over. In turn, it tilted over the next box and soon a chain reaction was created. An open sack of flour, previously balancing precariously on the edge, fell off, creating a dusty cloud of white. Toshiro sighed irritably, but ignored it; he would clean it up later. He gathered and armful of random boxes and packets, and shoved untidily on a spare ledge running down the length of the wall.

"Hmm, right," he muttered as he picked up the electric mixer.

Soon it was whirling happily in the bowl, combing the contents with not a single spillage. Toshiro grinned in a superior manner; who dared say he didn't know how to bake? A small, lidless jar sitting on the ledge suddenly tipped over, pouring its unknown contents into the bowl. Thankfully, due to his quick reflexes, Toshiro was able to move the bowl to safety before too much of the mysterious powder went in. The mixer was still going, and to his great surprise, the mixture was getting lighter and fluffier by the second. Satisfied, he turned it off. Before referring back to the book for the next step, he reached for the jar and read its label: Baking Soda. Shrugging, he placed it back on the ledge.

_**In a separate bowl, sift the flour, salt and baking powder.**_

Emerald eyes scanned through the mound of ingredients piled one on top of another in a pell-mell fashion. This was going to be fun...

And so began Toshiro's search for the exclusive item we like to call flour. Within five minutes there were five happy bags sitting in front of him: plain flour, self-raising flour, bread flour, gluten-free flour and wholemeal flour. Needless to say his search went a little too well. The tensai was at a lost for which to use! So he did what any smart person would do; he added a little of everything (because only an idiot would think to consult the ingredient list).

_**Gradually fold the dry ingredients into the wet ingredients.**_

Fold? Unbidden, a mental image of cookie dough being folded once, then twice, entered Toshiro's head. A large red X magically appeared over the image, flashing wildly to indicate the impossibility. But basically, logic reasoned, he just had to combine the ingredients in bowl A with the ones in bowl B. He gave the inanimate book a glare; just be to the point dammit! None of these fancy-smancy words! (But fold isn't fancy...)

Quite clearly forgetting to be gradual, Toshiro dumped the dry ingredients into the other bowl from an arm length's height. There was a muffled _poof_ as the ingredients landed, and a fine ring of powder flew out, like a mini explosion. He grabbed the nearest wooden spoon and calmly mixed until his concoction was well blended. It had been a little hard to mix towards then end, and that had resulted in flecks of the sticky dough to anchor itself to anything nearby: the counter top, the boxes, his hair; but it looked edible at least. Toshiro moved his eyes left and right, like a spy looking out behind a tree. When it was confirmed that he was alone, using a stabbing motion, he plunged the wooden spoon into the dough.

"Take that,' he chuckled darkly.

Now, what was the next step?

_**Add the chocolate chips in.**_

Toshiro inspected the small colourful bag with a critical (and biased) eye. For the love of Soul Society he just couldn't figure out why they would ruin something like a perfectly fine cookie with chocolate (even though he was anti-cookie himself; or so he liked to believe). They say two things make a right, but cookies and chocolate would probably bring about the Armageddon! He would just have to find a substitute.

Now for anyone looking at the walls, you would see the silhouette of your favourite pint-sized taichou brandishing a cleaver and hacking away madly at something unseen...Kindly direct your eyes back to said taichou and you'll see him calmly dicing some watermelon (and sneaking a piece or three in between). Toshiro set the cleaver down and nodded at his handiwork. These would go much better with the cookie dough.

He tipped the juicy pink fruit into the bowl and incorporated pink and yellow. Soon there was an indiscernible colour of..._something,_ with the consistency of thickened soup. He poked it with a finger and deemed it oven-worthy. After some rummaging around in the cupboards (with a few choice words mind you), Toshiro poured his liquefied dough into a large cake tin. He opened the door to his oven, and pleasantly found it still warm, though there was no fire to speak of. As he shoved the tin in, he quirked an eyebrow up at the bottom of the oven.

"Hado no ni. Hibana," he recited once more.

A little spark appeared, sitting happily in the middle of the oven floor. Satisfied, Toshiro closed the door and wiped his brow. He leant back with his arms folded across his chest. Ah, soon Momo would soon be in a swoon over his cookies...eh, not that he would want her to be in a swoon over him. Shaking his head, he straightened up with the intention of cleaning up the disastrous room, taking no heed that he had flicked the gas switch on.

Fifteen minutes later and the room was beginning to look somewhat decent. Half the ingredients were shoved randomly here and there (well his was the taichou of this division; who was going to tell him off?). Suddenly, the little taichou heard a strange noise issuing from the oven. It was a slightly ominous sound; a sick gurgling noise that reminded you of the vile green goo bubbling away in a witch's caldron. He set down his damp cloth and walked over, hurriedly wiping his hands on his shihakushou. Emerald eyes became dinner plates as they saw the soup-like contents in the cake tin boiling away like one. Great bubbles appeared, only to burst a second later, sending a bit of the mixture flying to stick onto the interior of the oven. A particularly large one attached itself right over the opening. It slid under the paper-thin gap and bubbled before setting.

Toshiro placed a hand on the handle and tugged firmly, but to no avail. Maybe a knife or something to slid though. He rushed back to the workplace, but as he dashed past the refrigerator with its door left ajar, something caught his eye; something that was even better than a knife.

* * *

"Hitsugaya-kun, I'm back," Momo said as she walked through the door.

She looked around. The kitchen looked brand new, with its gleaming bench tops and spotless walls. It didn't look any different that when they had first arrived.

"Oh, it's so clean!"

"Well what did you expect? A pig sty?" Toshiro said from his spot against the counter.

"No," Momo said as she made her way towards him. "But did you pack everything up because you didn't bake?"

Toshiro looked like the most offended thing in Soul Society.

"For you information, Bed Wetter," he gritted out. "I cleaned everything up because I _finished_ baking."

He jabbed a thumb over his shoulder, pointing to the ovens' general direction.

"And they should be done in about two minutes."

Momo leaned over to the side to see past Toshiro, even though there was no way she'd be able to see anything in the oven. A delightful aroma suddenly wafted over, making her eyes close and mouth water. She put a finger to her lips.

"Mmm, that smells good Shiro-chan."

"Of course."

_Ding!_

"Oh, they're done! Hurry Shiro-chan, get them out," Momo said excitedly, clapping her hands together.

"Yeah, yeah."

Toshiro grabbed a large checkered tea towel and folded it in half a few times, using it as a makeshift oven mitt. When he opened the door, Momo received an onslaught of that wonderful smell of freshly baked cookies; they smelled heavenly. He placed the tray onto the counter between them. There were twelve identical cookies, lined three by four. Each little sinful snack was baked to a desirable golden-brown, and packed with just the right amount of chocolate chips. They just sat there, screaming at the two shinigamis to indulge in their soft and sweet goodness. Momo complied; she picked one up between her thumb and forefinger and took a large bite. She chewed on it thoughtfully at first, but then,

"Oh wow, this is really good!" she complimented around a mouthful of cookie.

After swallowing, she took another energetic bite and the rest was soon gone. Momo wiped away any stray crumbs with the back of her hand. She placed her arms on the counter and lent across into Toshiro's face.

"Thanks Shiro-chan!"

Just out of the blue, she planted a kiss on his lips. Not until a second later did it sink in that she was actually kissing her best friend. She drew back a bit, too stunned to move further. Their lips were just hovering near each other as Toshiro and Momo stared at each other with equal expressions of speechlessness. Just as she was about to choke an explanation out, Toshiro closed what little distance there was between them with a sweet chaste kiss.

"You're welcome Bed Wetter."

Momo smiled embarrassedly and was thankful when a chance to hide her crimson face presented itself. There was a weird noise coming from the ovens' general area; and it was getting louder by the minute. It sounded like a sealed up volcano ready to explode at any moment. She cocked her head to the side and walked around.

"What's that noise Shiro-chan?"

"Hm, what? I don't hear anything," he said absentmindedly.

"It sounds like something's boiling."

Boiling? Oh yes, boiling something sounds good right about now. He could do with some soup since there was no way he would eat cookies. Waitaminute...cookies, soup, boiling, oven, stuck, loud noise-

"Momo! Get down!"

Toshiro leapt across from the counter, grabbed Momo and shielded her with his back towards the oven; just in the nick of time. Half a second later and a resounding KABOOM could be heard within a 4 ri radius. Toshiro and Momo were thrown to the other side of the kitchen, and despite Toshiro's efforts, they were both covered head to toe with a gooey hot substance. Immediately, Toshiro lowered the temperature, causing the goo to cool before causing them third-degree burns. He righted it back to room temperature after a minute; who wants to walk around with hardened pieces of "dough" covering three-quarters of their body? Mom wiped her eyes clean and shook her hands.

"Eh?! What did you do Shiro-chan?!" she asked, looking around at special paint treatment the kitchen (and its occupants) received.

"N-nothing! I, erm, guess I was just bored after baking."

Momo raised an eyebrow. "You're telling me that you baked _willingly_ because you were bored?"

"Erm...yes?"

Momo looked at him with the ultimate are-you-kidding-me look, but let it slide like the doughy goo off the walls. She walked over to him and licked his cheek.

"Mmm, yummy."

Then, she smacked her palm against his cheek, creating an odd squelching noise and smearing it with more of his special mixture. He retaliated by putting his hand on her head and ruffling her hair, making her squeal with displeasure.

"Nya, stop it Shiro-chan!"

"Only when you admit that I'm actually a good baker."

"Liar, you call this," She held up a finger of the stuff, "good?"

"Well you seemed to like it, and what about my other batch?"

"I bet you cheated."

"Didn't seem that way to me when you ate it."

Momo pouted and playfully smacked his other cheek.

"Fine."

She grabbed the front of his haori and pulled him into a kiss, of which he gladly returned and deepened. However, unbeknownst to Momo, Toshiro used his foot to push back a small trash can containing an empty red wrapper with a distinctive chubby white figure donning a cute little chef's hat.

The moral of this story: For girls, there is the oven and the cookie dough. For boys, there are cut-and-bake cookies.

* * *

Now don't take the moral seriously! It was just for the humour! And speaking of humour, I've tried to make this one humourous. How did I do? Lol, I know I'm not very good at it yet, so any tips would be welcomed. Okay, well please leave a review! Oh and because of exams, my free time will be drastically reduced T-T

Buwahaha, longest one-shot ever! About 4200 words!


	4. Letter, Tegami

**Theme 4: Letter/Tegami**  
_"Never write a letter when you're angry." – Chinese Proverb_

* * *

The afternoon sun was high in the sky, sending pleasant rays of light down upon Soul Society. Inside the Seireitei, it was currently one of those rare moments where all was quiet and peaceful; not that that would last very long, but nonetheless. No, wait; if you force yourself to concentrate, you may hear a series of rhythmic taps so light, they almost blended in with the silence. Dart over to back of the fifth division barracks and take a peek through the small circular window, the third one to your left – no, _your_ left – and you may find the source of the tapping.

Black haired, brown eyed Momo Hinamori was sitting in her chair, slumped over the table. Her head was languidly nestled into an arm as she tapped a slim blue-barrelled pen up and down on the hard surface. The taps started in a slow beat, and then sped up considerably before dying back down to its original speed. Momo sighed and began to flip the pen between her fore and middle fingers. Halfway through a twirl, her thumb got caught and the pen flew out of her hand. It bounced feebly before skidding across the floorboards.

Signing yet again, she opted for burying her head in both of her arms rather than picking up the pen. Scrap pieces of paper were scattered all across her desk, some with words and some with scribbles. About half and hour ago, Momo came into her office, pulled out the second drawer down from the right, and discovered the long forgotten packet of pens she had brought way back during her first trip to the human world. So for the first half, she was giddy with excitement, randomly doodling and marvelling at how sleek the line of ink was, much unlike that of Soul Society's horsehair brushes.

But soon those scribbles turned into words; and with good reason. Amidst the untidy scrawls and crossed out words, there was that four letter word written over and over again. On one piece of paper it was written in cursive with slight variations each time it was written. The L's ranged from large and loopy to small and squished. On another sheet it was printed on with the O's replaced with hearts. Sometimes that four letter word was accompanied by pronouns on both sides...and then maybe a name.

Blindly, Momo reached out and grabbed the first piece of paper her hand found and brought it in front of her face. She peeked her eyes over her folded arms and looked at it; it was a half mutilated letter. Gagging at her soppy creation, she crumpled it up and banged her head a couple of times before standing up to clear her desk. She wanted to tell him today.

No sooner than she had tipped the armful of papers into the small trashcan, the door opened to reveal a shinigami with their identity masked by a sizeable stack of papers.

"Special delivery for Momo-chan!"

"Now?" Momo whined.

Matsumoto shuffled to the desk and gratefully dropped the large stack onto it. She let out a "phew" and wiped imaginary sweat off her brow. She looked at the mountainous stack with both a sense of pride having carried it all the way to fifth division, and also with great relief that it wasn't for her. Momo squeezed her eyes shut and cautiously picked up the top sheet. Holding the bare minimum of the upper left hand corner with her thumb and forefinger, she held it up to her face and gingerly opened one eye. The other one soon followed and she let out a huge groan. Stamped near the top of this sheet, and most likely all of the other ones too, was a red-inked insignia of the Gotei 13. This meant they had to be filled out immediately.

"I don't have time for this! I was going to write a letter to Tos-"

Momo clamped her hands over her mouth mid-rant as she remembered that she was not the only soul present in the room. Matsumoto gave her a sly smile.

"Who were you going to write a letter to, eh Momo? I bet I know! The three S's!"

"What?"

"Oh you know: snowy, stoic and short!"

Matsumoto laughed at her own little creation and waltzed over to Momo. She pushed her from behind and forced the smaller girl into her chair. She grabbed the pen and a fresh sheet of paper and energetically shoved them into Momo's hands.

"Now write and I shall deliver!"

Momo turned her head around and arched up an eyebrow, giving the cheerful strawberry blond a look of scepticism. Sure, you could rely on Matsumoto to deliver a letter; practically anyone could take a piece of paper from one place to another. The only thing was if you could actually trust her not to read whatever you were getting her to deliver.

"Now now Momo, I know what you're thinking," Matsumoto said knowingly. "And with good reason too."

She gave a huge dramatic sigh and placed a hand on her forehead before continuing. "I knew one day my curiosity would get to me, and now it's even come to this! My best friend won't even trust me to deliver a letter to her beloved! But fear not!"

Matsumoto removed her hand and lifted up her head, with a look of one who had just achieved great brilliance. "You could always just put the fifth division seal over it!

Momo had to admit, that was a good idea. The division seals had some sort of special kido applied to them, making it so that once that seal was so much as lifted on the edges, it would rip in half. This way the recipient of the letter could always make sure that they were the first to read the message. However, for Matsumoto to be suggesting such an idea; surely she must have some trick up her sleeve.

"Fine Rangiku-san."

Momo pulled the sheet close to her and wrote while bending over it. This way her overly curious friend could not see what she was writing. After finishing, she folded the paper neatly into thirds and placed the fifth division sticker seal over it. She handed it up over her shoulder to Matsumoto.

"Okays Momo-chan! I'm off to deliver this to beloved taichou! Bye!"

Momo blinked as her friend practically teleported out of the office. She pulled the stack more towards her and grabbed the topmost sheet. After an irritated sigh, a small mocking smile formed on her lips.

_As if you're not going to read it._

* * *

_As if I'm not going to read it._

Matsumoto was sitting in a narrow space between the two high walls of adjacent buildings. Her back was leaning on one with her legs placed up comfortably on the other. She rested the sealed letter on her thighs and reached into her shihakushou. A moment later she pulled out a small roll of the fifth division seals. Who said that living in the Rukongai didn't have any advantages?

She placed the small roll next to her on the ground and rubbed her hands in excitement. She lifted up the edge of the circular seal and as expected, a large rip appeared. She quickly removed both halves, crumpled them up into a small sticky ball and flicked it away.

"Now Momo-chan, how did you write your confession?!"

She unfolded it and hurriedly scanned its contents. As her eyes moved downwards, expectations of those cliché sappy stuff confession were made up faded away into the distance. Upon reaching the end, her eyebrows knitted together in confusion.

"What the hell?!"

* * *

Toshiro eyed the neatly folded letter that Matsumoto just dumped on top of his work. It bore the fifth division's seal: a circular white sticker with a black border and in the centre, the number five kanji and the lily-of-the-valley emblem. He tore it off and started to read. Like Matsumoto, his eyebrows started to knit together, but then a realisation dawned on him and he directed his eyes back to the top.

_**Hitsugaya-kun  
**__There is something I want to know  
__I want know  
__What the middle is to the sky and earth?  
__Please, can I ask you to find  
__That perfect middle so that you can tell me the answer?  
__Will you come up with something that you can tell me?_

"See?! Isn't it a strange con- I mean letter! Isn't it a strange letter taichou?!" Matsumoto piped up before she could stop herself.

"Matsumoto, where did you steal the seals from?"

Toshiro didn't even bother to look up at his fukutaichou standing there, nervously fidgeting with her large obi sash. He had the slightest feeling that Matsumoto had read Momo's letter before him as she did not scurry over to peek at its contents; and her exclamation made it as clear as day. He dipped his traditional ink pen into its inkwell and began to write his reply. Matsumoto vaguely wondered if she could get away while he was preoccupied, but his emerald eyes moved up, demanding her to answer.

"Ehehehe, taichou! Why would you think I stole them?! Haven't you heard of the term "friendly borrowing"? You need to get out more!"

"Yeah, right," was his caustic reply.

After writing and letting his sheet dry out, Toshiro folded his letter and handed it, unsealed, to Matsumoto. Matsumoto was fukutaichou of the tenth division; she could quite easily get her hands on a roll of seals without getting in the least bit of trouble. There was absolutely no point and this would save him precious time, not to mention seals. He dismissed her with a wave of his hand.

* * *

"Well at least taichou's letter is in a language people can understand!"

_**Hinamori  
**__What is it? And is this whole thing because you couldn't get anyone else besides Matsumoto to deliver this to me?_

_Matsumoto, I know you're reading this. You're not very trustworthy, or reliable for that matter._

"Stupid taichou," she huffed as she folded the letter back. "I'm plenty reliable! In fact, people should pay me for my reliability! Yeah!"

"Hey Rangiku! Do you have those snapshots that you were meant to give to me last week?!" shouted Hisagi from the distant adjacent walkway.

"Nope!"

* * *

"Wow Shiro-chan," she quietly said to herself as she read his reply. "You actually figured it out?"

"Yep! Taichou had this really surprised look on his face when he read you r letter Momo-chan! So, what did you write?!"

"Oh nothing much yet; I just wanted to ask him something."

Matsumoto cried in indignation her mind.

_Well I figured that much out Momo-chan!!_

Hm, maybe the next letter will tell her what she wanted to know?

* * *

_**Hitsugaya-kun  
**__I can't believe you figured it out  
__Ne, really Shiro-chan  
__I suppose that you really are as smart as they say  
__And clever too_

_(I suppose anyway; you did some pretty stupid things when you were a kid! How long did it take you?)_

"At least the girl's using our language again. Hm? Figured what out? Did I miss something in the last letter?" she asked herself. "Must have. Dammit! I should have dropped by ninth before giving that letter to taichou! Hisagi could've made me a copy."

She sighed and placed a new seal over the letter, wondering why she was even doing that. Toshiro had already caught her out; damn him for being a child prodigy! But one could always hope that this time he may not be cynical for once.

* * *

"Eh! Stupid taichou! ACHOO!"

Matsumoto sniffed pathetically and wiped her nose. Waterfalls of tears ran down her face as she walked back to Momo's division yet again. A large cumulus cloud moved across the sky to cover the sun, dropping the temperature ever so slightly. This did not sit too well with Matsumoto. Why? Because someone took the time to veneer her shihakushou with a glittering layer of frost.

In her right hand, she was gripping the reply letter a little too hard. So far this was her one, two...sixth trip between those two blind lovebirds. It was more work than she did in a year; but she persevered, albeit somewhat tiredly now, because there had to be a straightforward confession sometime! ...right?

_**Hinamori  
**__Don't insult me over letters baka Bed Wetter! And it took me a second. Now what's that something you wanted to ask me? And what would be the point of I didn't figure it out?!_

_**Hitsugaya-kun  
**__You don't have to yell at me! And I complimented you! Twice! You're so mean Shiro-chan!_

_**Hinamori  
**__Yeah…whatever; just get on with it_

Well, if the past three letters were any indication, no, that confession wouldn't be coming anytime soon.

* * *

_**Hitsugaya-kun  
**__(You're so childish)_

_Tell me please, what do you know and think?  
__Do you find  
__The sky and earth think nothing of each other?  
__Or could they become more than friends in the most unlikely of circumstances?  
__I know you can tell me this  
__Is it the rain that will fall always between the sky and earth?  
__There are so many possibilities in my mind at this moment  
__I would love the answer_

"Argh! You swapped back to gobbledygook!! No no no! The sky's up there, the earth's down there, and that's that!! "

She stopped as a completely ludicrous though ran through her mind.

"Maybe...they don't like each other...and this is some sort of wacked out childhood game?! No! Those two may be the thickest things I've ever come across, but not even a blind person would be able to miss their obvious flirting!"

* * *

Somewhere in the darkest sections of Las Noches:

Tousen's backbone straightened out as a series of small shivers travelled up them. When they receded, he rubbed his hand on his head confusingly and looked behind him (not that he would be able to see if anything was behind him...)

"Huh? What's wrong?"

"Nothing Gin. ...Hey, do you think that even I would be able to see the really obvious flirting between two people?"

"...I'm gonna go now..."

* * *

_**Hinamori  
**__Why?_

"Why what?!" Matsumoto whined.

Moonlighting as a messenger seemed fun at first...because she though she would get some juicy gossip out of it, not some half-riddle, half-letter with stupid rhetorical or whatever questions thrown in!! That silver lining was quickly wearing thin and she was surprised that she could even drag her feet towards Momo's room. This was her...eight time right? The strawberry blonde was quite willing to bet a lifetime's supply of sake that she could walk this path blindfolded without bumping into anything.

"Those two are just tiring! Tiring, do you hear me?!"

She shook a fist in the air and swung it around in a series of punches and uppercuts just for the heck of it.

"If the next letter is like all the other ones, I swear!"

* * *

Okay, this was it; the moment of truth. Matsumoto held up the folded piece of paper in front of her slitted eyes; Momo's reply. She was standing at the end of a hallway that lead to the door of the taichou's office. Her hands started to shake from anticipation, excitement, irritation, and many other emotions she couldn't be bothered to name. Everyone says that the third time's the charm...well times that by three and you'll be in Matsumoto's shoes. She gnashed her teeth together; leave it to those two to whittle down her cheerful, bubbly personality.

She needed to calm down! She closed her eyes and sent a little prayer to kami-sama, wherever he may be. Inhale, exhale, blue skies, calm s– oh, screw that! She unfolded the letter with such ferocity that it was a wonder as to how it was still in one piece.

_**Toshiro  
**__Well it is because of endless curiosity  
__In my room I sit down quietly  
__To think infinitely  
__And I wonder if it's all I can do  
__I want to know the true answer to my hanging question_

_There is nothing I can do now  
__Except wait, to see if raindrops really are the love beads that connects those distant entities, like I hope  
__I can always count on you. You'll tell me the answer  
__Toshiro_

"You all hate me!" she wailed to no one in particular.

Matsumoto tore into the office; the door hit the wall so hard, a nice sizeable crack was left in it. The falling pieces of plaster seemed to catch the attention of Toshiro rather than his fukutaichou in hysterics. Said fukutaichou was running around like a headless chicken. She circled around the room, muttering about "little knob heads" among other things. A little self composure seemed to have wormed its way into her brain and she mechanically walked up to the table.

"Here," she said, holding the letter in front of his face. Toshiro reached for it, but she subconsciously waved it to the other side.

"Although I'll never-"

Another attempt to claim the letter, another subconscious wave of the letter.

"Ever get the communication-"

"Matsumoto," Toshiro gritted through his teeth after his third failed attempt.

"Between you two. I need some kind-"

"Matsumoto!"

"Of decoding device for your mumbo jumbo! Stupid mumb-"

"MATSUMOTO!"

He grabbed her wrist and yanked the letter out of her hand. Finally, it only took five attempts. Matsumoto pouted but acted like nothing just happened and resumed her complaining under her breath. Toshiro ran an agitated hand through his hair and opened the letter. As he read down, his eyes widened and a pink blush began to appear on his face. No, she couldn't be saying that – he re-read the letter once more.

Unbeknownst to Matsumoto, because she currently had her head buried into the table, a small joyous smile came onto Toshiro's face. He grabbed a fresh sheet of paper and wrote a scant five words before folding it up and tapping his fukutaichou's shoulder.

"What?" she sniffed, looking up at him over her arms.

"Can you deliver this to Hinamori for me?"

She seemed to consider it for a moment, before snatching it in a huff.

"Fine, but only because the bar is on the way! I need sake! You two are the thickest things in all of existence!"

She stormed off through the door in a huff but poked her head in a second later.

"And I hate you!"

She stuck out her tongue before disappearing with a quick shunpo. Almost immediately, she was in front of Momo's desk. She held the unread letter up high and loosened her grip on it. It was still floating down to Momo's desk when the tormented shinigami proclaimed her need for sake once more and hightailed it out of there; but not before giving Momo the same "And I hate you!" parting.

Too bad for Matsumoto.

She's the fukutaichou of tenth division, who walked up and down the same path ten times today, which took ten large cups of sake to drown out the memory. Ten, ten, ten. She should really consider a saying like "the tenth time's the charm".

_**Momo  
**__I love you too._

* * *

Confusing, no? Well there's kind of two ways to read Momo's letters: the straightforward version is hidden, while the riddled-type version is out in the open. Did that make any sense? Anywho, my main intention was for you readers to figure out the straightforward version (hint: look back at Momo's first letter). I'll put up the answer next time I update.

To those who want to: have fun figuring it out before then!

Please leave a review!

* * *

**Translation of:  
**_Theme 4: Letter/Tegami_

Yep, I'm just gonna plonk the answer down here! I'm warning you, it's long, so you don't have to read it if you don't want to. Or you could just read about the hidden message bit.

Okay, so the straightforward version was hidden in the middle of Momo's letters; that is, the middle word of each sentence worded out what she wanted to write if not for Matsumoto being the messenger, lol. I'll put it here so you don't have to scroll up:

_**Hitsugaya-kun  
**__There is something **I **want to know  
__I **want **know  
__What the middle is **to** the sky and earth?  
__Please, can I **ask** you to find  
__That perfect middle so that **you** can tell me the answer?  
__Will you come up with **something** that you can tell me?_

_--_

_**Hinamori  
**__What is it? And is this whole thing because you couldn't get anyone else besides Matsumoto to deliver this to me?_

_Matsumoto, I know you're reading this. You're not very trustworthy, or reliable for that matter._

_--_

_**Hitsugaya-kun  
**__I can't believe **you** figured it out  
__Ne, **really** Shiro-chan  
__I suppose that you really **are** as smart as they say  
__And **clever **too_

_(I suppose anyway; you did some pretty stupid things when you were a kid! How long did it take you?)_

_--_

_**Hinamori  
**__Don't insult me over letters baka Bed Wetter! And it took me a second. Now what's that something you wanted to ask me? And what would be the point of I didn't figure it out?!_

_**Hitsugaya-kun  
**__You don't have to yell at me! And I complimented you! Twice! You're so mean Shiro-chan!_

_**Hinamori  
**__Yeah…whatever; just get on with it_

_--_

_**Hitsugaya-kun  
**(You're so childish)_

_Tell me please, what **do** you know and think?  
Do **you** find  
The sky and earth **think** nothing of each other?  
Or could they become more than **friends** in the most unlikely of circumstances?  
I know you **can** tell me this  
Is it the rain that will **fall** always between the sky and earth?  
There are so many possibilities **in** my mind at this moment  
I would **love** the answer_

_--_

_**Hinamori  
**Why?_

_--_

_**Toshiro  
**Well it is **because** of endless curiosity  
In my room **I** sit down quietly  
To **think** infinitely  
And I wonder if **it's** all I can do  
I want to know the **true** answer to my hanging question_

_There is nothing **I** can do now  
Except wait, to see if raindrops really are the **love** beads that connects those distant entities, like I hope  
I can always count on **you**. You'll tell me the answer  
**Toshiro**_

**_--_**

_**Momo  
**I love you too._

_--_

And there you have it! Well done to nymphadora1196 for figuring it out! Well if you look at the hidden message and the outwards message, you can see that they kind of realte to each other. Now for the riddled-version; that is the outwards message. This is just what floated into my mind when writing it:

Now when I think of Toshiro and Momo, I find it wonderful that two opposites can blend together so well; this is where the sky and earth came in. They're at opposite ends, and yet one cannot exist without the other. Now I relate Momo to the sky because of her carefree and kind personality, and Toshiro to the earth for his practicality and realism. Momo asked Toshiro if it is only rain that will connect those two. Metaphorically, if the sky and earth were in interact, would only rain, indicating negativity, connect them? Or are those droplets really the love those two have for each other? Lol, well water is primarily a life giving substance. And the middle: when those two unite in the perfect middle, it signifies their unity and yet they still retain their original forms. Think about you holding hands with someone; you're linked together and yet you're still seperate in a sense; you are two being that make a whole, not a whole new being.

This whole riddle thing is pretty open ended and there are so many ways to interpret things like this. Thank you to momo hitsugaya for bringing about a new perspective to this! As soon as I read it I thought "Yeah, that fits in so well!" That's amazing, what you came up with and I totally agree with it. The sky does protect the earth from the harshness of space and whatnot and yet doesn't smother it, but helps it foster and grow, just like how Toshiro protects Momo. You've really opened my eyes o.o (lol, couldn't help but put that there XD) And red-strawberrii: I like that quote! If I knew that before, that would probably have floated in my mind too!

I have to say, I had a really fun time making those letters up! Hope you got my explanation!


	5. Falling, Shikkayku

Oh, sorry if the Japanese for "Falling" is wrong. My main computer broke down and so now I can't properly check it. If it is wrong, please don't hesitate to tell me!

* * *

**Theme 5: Falling/Shikkyaku  
**"_Nobody's afraid of heights; they're just afraid of falling." – Snowy Peach Tsubasa_

* * *

_Falling._

_Isn't everybody afraid of it, even if that fear only lasts for a second?_

A young girl is standing on a rocky cliff jutting over the beach and its crystal blue sea. The blue below her sparkles like a giant sapphire and the blue above her exudes a gentle glow. The wind at this altitude is pleasant, and would have softly lifted up her brown hair if not for the bun it was placed in. She lifts her arms parallel to the ground at her sides, using them to balance herself as she steps onto the cliff's edge. Her head is proudly held up, facing the sky and the world.

_I wonder. Falling is something that catches you by surprise. You can't prepare for it and it's the freefalling experience and the inevitable pain of landing that people are afraid of, isn't it? Like when you trip and fall; you're not that far off the ground, but your heart stops and soon you get a scraped knee._

_So what would happen if we knew we would not get hurt?_

The girl slowly lowers her arms back down and takes a step back. She shyly looks away from the horizon as if she's ashamed of herself. Small grains come loose from her movement; never reaching the sea, only riding in the winds. Her heart beats steadily, but it echoes in her ears, making them seem irregular. She doesn't seem to mind; she gently places her hand over her ears and closes her eyes, listening to the beats like she would the gentle ocean waves. She treasures this sound.

_If we didn't have that fear, wouldn't falling be wonderful? If we knew we'd have that soft landing, wouldn't we enjoy the fall? Yes, it would be wonderful wouldn't it? There would be nothing holding you back; you could dance in the air and move in ways you didn't even know your body could manage!_

She opens her eyes and looks at the horizon, lowering her arms once again.

_But that's not reality: a fall that's completely free of fear and pain. They're always there; when you fall on the ground, when you skydive off a plane, but most of all, when you fall in love._

_Falling in love, I think, feels like a double-edged sword. It's nice up here; a warm feeling always comes to my chest and I can watch him, even though it is from afar; the smallest things he does makes me so happy! But somehow, at the same time, I can only just bear the thought of him never knowing I feel this way. I want him to know, I really do, but I don't want to fall just yet, because I don't know if he'll be waiting for me at the bottom. I don't want my body to be shattered._

_But no one can really avoid it, can they? Aren't we all curious about what's waiting for us at the bottom? Even if we think we already know?_

_So I guess, sooner or later,_

Small pebbles are kicked up as the girl takes a few more steps back. Not once did she look back. No, it was all about going forward now. She clapped her hands together and took in a deep and what seemed to her to be a final breath, before running and taking off, spreading her arms out wide and falling down towards the pale of the sand.

_We can't help but fall._

_And as we fall and meet with the bumps and tumbles along the way, we know that there's a chance we could land on the ground and shatter like fragile glass. Perhaps it is even a huge chance. It won't be easy, but still,_

The girl sees a downwards surge of water below her; she is about to fall head first into a waterfall. There is nothing she can do but wait for her body to come in contact with it. She couldn't prepare for it; she hits it with such a force that her whole body hurts. Her eyes are blinded by its force and her hair and clothes are snagged by gnarled branches on the sides.

_But still,_

She falls out of the waterfall and opens her eyes; the bottom is coming up fast. The sand seems to harden when it sees her and she would have squeezed her eyes shut in terror if not for something else. There is something else besides the sand. As she falls closer and closer, she sees that it's a person; it's him. She instinctively holds out her arms, and he does as well. He catches her and they tumble together through the sand. When they finally stop, exhilarated laughter escapes from their lips before brown and green eyes close for a kiss.

There was fear and there was pain, but everything turned out right.

_We can't help but fall, knowing that there's a chance someone could be at the bottom, ready and waiting to catch us._

* * *

Well I decided to write one in present tense; it was difficult to say the least because I'm so used to writing in past tense! Oh, and I've updated the answers for the previous theme!

Please review! (And if you want, check out my new story now that I've finished my mermaid one! It's called "Once Upon a Time: Cinderella")


	6. Kiss, Kisu

I apologise in advance for any OOC-ness!

**

* * *

**

**Theme 6: Kiss/Kisu  
**"_A kiss without a hug is like a flower without the fragrance." – Proverb_

* * *

_Oh! Hello there! I bet you're wondering exactly what you are doing here, hm? W-wait! Don't go away just yet! Hear me out will ya? I've got some interesting lowdown on Seireitei's – no – Soul Society's – NO – the universe's most adorable couple! _

_And NO! It is NOT Byachigo! Please, let's try not to scar the commentator for life._

_Ladies and gentlemen, yes, I am talking about Toshiro Hitsugaya and Momo Hinamori! Now le- OKAY YOU NON-CONFORMISTS, GET OUT!! Ahem, excuse me, I ah, seemed to have lost a bit of control there; happens to everybody, no need to fret._

_Now I'm sure all you eager fans are wondering this: just when was Toshiro Hitsugaya and Momo Hinamori's first kiss? No? Well too bad; you're going to find that out today. Ah, no. We are not going to be showing you the first time they had sex; excuse me there are children in here!_

_Oh, what's this in my hand you ask, young lady in seat 16T? Why is the life so far of our favourite couple! Yes! With this little beauty we at 'Bleach It' will be able to show you their very first kiss! (Please note that the staff and producers at 'Bleach It" will not be held responsible for any action that arise because of the production title, such as the bleaching of Hitsugaya-taichou's hair. Be quiet! He still doesn't know about that! Poor boy thinks he was born with it!)_

_Now without further ado, their first kiss!_

* * *

The tenth division taichou office was shaking rather violently. Endless vibrations rippled on the ground, making everything that wasn't bolted down shiver. Pictures threatened to fall off the walls and leave their inhabitants homeless while the small chest of drawers in the corner made its way towards the door. Toshiro Hitsugaya had his head pressed onto the table and his hand over his ears, trying to block out the highly unpleasant noise that came with the rumbles.

No, it wasn't quite an earthquake, though Toshiro thought he would fare better if it was. On the couch Matsumoto was fast asleep; fast asleep and snoring.

_And I thought she was loud enough awake!_

A small blessing came; the noise suddenly stopped, but it was like the eye of a storm. Matsumoto gave an unconscious yawn and smacked her lips together. The noise returned and Toshiro snapped. His fukutaichou gave out a startled cry and fell off the couch, landing hardly on her side. Wincing with pain, she rubbed the sore red spot on her forehead where the projectile inkwell had hit her. She bent her head back to look up over the couch for her taichou, but he was already out the door. A victory smile promptly appeared and she fell back to sleep, this time without the snores.

--

"Idiotic, lazy good for nothing Matsumoto," Toshiro muttered under his breath in a deathly tone.

There were no visible angry flares of reiatsu surrounding the young tensai, but somehow every shinigami knew when he was in a bad mood. They could just feel it; metaphorically and physically. The warm day was starting to get a little chilly, even with the sun shining brightly overhead. Crowds instantly parted for him, as if he was the hot knife searing through them: the butter. He had to calm down, quickly; and there were only a handful of ways to calm down Toshiro Hitsugaya.

He was one step into the fifth division area when something (or rather someone) landed on his back. His arms rotated in a couple of pinwheels, trying to steady his topple-prone body, before instinctively holding onto whoever had the gall to do that to him. Well up to date there were two possibilities: Yachiru Kusajishi or–

"Shiro-chan! What's up?!"

"You apparently," he replied bluntly.

Momo laughed and hugged him around the neck while he shifted his arms into a more comfortable position. It was a little strange having the shorter person piggybacking the taller one. Momo laid her arms on top of his snowy hair and rested her head on them. Toshiro banished his scowl and tilted his head up, smiling at her.

"Trouble in the office?" she asked.

"What else?"

Momo straightened her back and arms. Leaning over his face, she smiled down at him before claiming his lips: spiderman style. The kiss was short as neither of them was in the most comfortable position, but after adjusting his girlfriend once more, Toshiro started to make his way to a more secluded area.

* * *

_H-hey! Whoever's in charge of playing the tape: do you not have any commonsense?! How, in the name of all that's right in the world, can that possible, POSSIBLY be their first kiss?! Yes yes, it was sweet and cute and "totally glompable" but that's not the point! This episode of 'Bleach It' is supposed to showcase the kiss that got it all started! The one where all the magic was born! The one where two childhood friends realised deep and unspoken feelings for each oth- HEY! Don't cut me o-_

* * *

"Oh hey! Come over here and look at this Hitsugaya-kun!"

Momo turned around briefly to wave to Toshiro before once again becoming absorbed with the items behind the window. They were in the human world, walking down a gorgeous boulevard lined with grand maple trees. Foliages were in shades of varying sunset colours and browns, making for a very picturesque sight. It was early autumn, but it was cool enough to provide fallen leaves with a nice crunch. Shops lined both the left and right sides, and with their items on display it was a place where shinigamis could easily lose themselves in curiosity.

"Look! Aren't they pretty?"

Toshiro looked through the window and saw many crystal sculptures sitting on velvet cushions of rich red. There was a myriad of creations on display: little butterflies, coloured hearts from the size of a pebble to the size of his fist, rearing horses and flower vases, just to name a few. All of them were glittering with a shine of their own. He really only had a split second look before he was forcibly dragged off. Evidently Momo's curiosity would kill him before it killed her.

Down the boulevard they went. Momo dragged him from store to store, staying still long enough to have a good look through the display window before moving off. They window shopped in the jewellery store, perfume store, fruit and vegetable stalls and patisserie before coming to a halt in front of a chic-looking clothing store. The mannequins were dressed in the latest fashion and the inside was bustling with activity. Momo scanned through the female section before sliding across to Toshiro. His eyes were looking upon the male clothes with mild interest.

"See anything you like?" she asked while loosely hooking arms with him.

Toshiro gave the section another quick look-over before smirking. He turned to face Momo and promptly kissed her.

"I saw your lips."

* * *

_That's even further away from their first kiss!! There was none of that adorable awkwardness that comes with every first kiss! None! Zip! Zilch! C'mon up there! Pay attention; the rewind button is the one where the triangles are pointing left! Left dammit!_

* * *

Today was a magical day.

The skies were clear of clouds, allowing the sun to smile down upon the world. Spring breezes rolled past the valleys and fields, carrying with them the scent of a thousand flowers. The atmosphere was peaceful and there was nothing but the natural sounds in the air. This day sounded like some kind of overly perfect storybook setting, the usual cliché stuff, but why shouldn't this day be perfect?

There was a small flower garden with an archway flourishing with bougainvillea. A river flowed nearby, the sounds so gentle and soft that there was no need for music. There were not many witnesses; it was to be a small but memorable event shared with loved ones. The small brick pathway was already decorated with red rose petals.

Toshiro stood under the archway, waiting with one part of anticipation and three parts of joy. His hand was itching to loosen his collar, but that would have looked uncouth. Finally after all his waiting, Momo appeared before his eyes, dressed in snow white. All eyes turned to her as she made her way down to join her beloved under the archway. The world was lost to them as they stared into each other's eyes with such love and devotion. There was no need to say anything except for two words.

"I do-

* * *

_OKAY! THAT'S IT!! Not even Ganju would think that THAT was their first kiss! For crying out loud that was their wedding! You have just single-handedly ruined next week's episode where we were going to present the ten top weddings in the history of Soul Society!! Now you have one more chance to get things right! You hear me?! One. More. Chance._

* * *

"Shiro-chan, I love you! No, no! That sounds too childish Momo! How about…I think I l-love you Hitsugaya-kun? No! That sounds bad too! …I love spending time with you!!"

Momo blinked a couple of times before hanging her head in defeat. She tossed the stuffed cat she was practising on over her shoulder. It hit the wall and slid down onto her pillow. For days now she and her cat have spent some quality time together, working on the best possible confession; it wasn't working out too well. She tried out so many different ways of expressing her love in so many different tones that if her stuffed cat was alive it would have ripped out its own ears (as horrible as that may sound). She knelt down on the floor and sighed.

"I love spending time with you? I love spending time with you?!" she repeated incredulously. "What kind of confession is that Momo Hinamori?! Uggh…"

She pulled her knees up to her chest and stared ahead.

"Why is it so hard? Why can't I just say it to him?"

It was because of the very fact that saying those three words leaves a person feeling extremely exposed and at the mercy of emotional torment. No matter how gentle a rejection is, it will still leave you feeling incredibly naked and small. Things could never be the same again between two people if a one-sided love was confessed. It was painful just to imagine that if Toshiro didn't feel the same way about her, there was more than a likely chance that they would drift further and further apart until their conversations consisted of no more than mechanical routine greetings.

On one hand she felt that this thought would be enough for her to keep her mouth shut; to keep things as they were. However on the other hand, she could never fully rid her mind of visions on what could be if he returned her feelings. Such thoughts made her madly blush, and yet at the same time, smile stupidly. But of course – she sighed – didn't he only think of her as a friend? Whenever Matsumoto made a suggestion about herself and him being an item, he would always immediately deny it without any hesitations. Momo knew him since they were little. She knew when he was lying, albeit it being hard to tell sometimes, but she knew; and every single time when he denied it, it was true.

Somehow at times like now, she would hold onto that tiny glimmer of hope; hoping that somehow she read her best friend wrongly, and that he was as good at hiding his emotions from her as he did with the rest of the world. But still; holding onto hope is just as painful as it is hopeful.

Momo straightened out her legs and tapped her feet together. She leant back, putting most of her upper body weight on her arms and stared at the ceiling.

"Toshiro…" she whispered, and then louder, a little above speaking volume, "Toshiro."

She paused and got up, stretching out her body and mulling over words. A floorboard creaked, but it was barely noticeable. The day was nearly over but she had some last minute paperwork to complete. Sighing, she walked over to her door.

"I love you Toshiro," she said as she turned the doorknob.

The door swung open, but instead of taking a step forward, she took a hasty one back. Her brown eyes widened in dread for standing right in front of the door way was one Toshiro Hitsugaya. He looked directly at her, even if she couldn't keep her own gaze. She shifted uncomfortably as her mind and heart screamed at her to say something, anything.

"…H- …" Dammit, she couldn't even say his name! "Umm…did you…hear anything?" she squeaked out.

"I heard what I needed to hear."

Momo hung her head down so that her fringe was shadowing her eyes.

"I see… I didn't want things…sorry."

She made to push past him, but he stopped her, grabbing her around the wrist. She winced, not even daring to look at him. She didn't want to look into those beautiful emerald eyes and see them laced with rejection or pity. Air. She needed air, and her own space right now. She needed to sort through her emotions and thoughts, and to see where the pieces of her heart laid. Why couldn't he understand that? Why did he feel the need to prolong her experience with this?!

Emotions were starting to get the better of her. She glared bitterly ahead at the bare wooden planks, trying to suppress them. Fragments of numerous thoughts swirled like a hurricane inside her mind; none of it making any sense.

"Momo…you don't think I love you?" Toshiro asked, effectively reading what her body language and facial expression told him.

"Toshiro…I've known you since I was a child," she started in a slightly cracking voice. "I _know _when you're lying, o-okay? …Whenever – whenever anybody says anything about the…the two of us…you…you…you deny it!" she shouted out. "You deny it and it's always ALWAYS true!"

There was an uneasy silence between them; neither of them moved. Finally Toshiro placed his free hand on Momo's cheek, caressing it softly and moving her head to face his. She still refused to meet him in the eye.

"Momo, do you realise everybody always says one of three things, all of which are untrue? One: they say that Momo Hinamori is my girl. Momo you are not _my _girl and I would never want you to be my girl. I don't want to own you like I own my pens and papers. I wouldn't want you to stay by my side because you have to. What I want is for you to stay by my side and love me of your own free will."

He released his grip from her wrist and moved his hand around her back, pulling her in a loose hug.

"Two: they say we would make a good couple. First when they did say that, I did think it was true, but then I realised it wasn't. We would not make a good couple; we _will_ make a good couple."

The hand on her cheek ran over her skin once more and she finally looked him in the eye. He moved his hand to the back of her head

"And three: they say that I like Momo Hinamori, when in fact,"

He leant in and kissed her right there on the lips. Her eyes widened and then closed serenely. A couple of blissful tears slid down her face as she let out a muffled cry of happiness. She could feel him smile against her lips.

_I love you._

* * *

_Aw, -wipes away tear- wasn't that just precious everybody? Now we all think that the first kiss comes along with the confession right? And I know what you're thinking: this is not going to be one of those flimsily little twist where we show their first kiss on the cheek or whatever. Excuse me, we at 'Bleach It' have more tact than that I assure you._

_Well you up there, you did good. I won't be docking you pay (not that I have the authority to). Taking things into consideration that could very well be considered their first kiss for even Momo Hinamori and Toshiro Hitsugaya can't recall their first ever kiss._

* * *

"Shiro-chan, what's a kiss?"

"Baka bed wetter, don't you know anything?! It's when two people put their mouths together like this."

An extremely young Toshiro clapped his tiny hands together in maddened superiority. Momo looked at his pressed hands and let out a long and drawn out "ohhhh". They were sitting on the front porch of oba-san's house, with legs dangling over the edge.

"Jeeze, you're older than me and you still don't know?"

"Shut up Shiro-chan! Okay then, if you know what it is then you have to know why people do it all the time!"

Toshiro made a big show of shaking his head in an "I can't believe you don't know that either" type fashion as to buy him some time. Actually he didn't know why people kissed either, but he wasn't about to let that be known.

"It's a game bed wetter."

"Really? Is it fun?"

"I don't know! I've never played kiss before!"

"What are the rules?"

"…Rules?"

"Yeah Shiro-chan," she said slowly. "If it's a game then it has to have rules!"

She looked at the struggling boy for a moment before saying, "Oh wait, Shiro-chan doesn't know the rules does he?"

"O-of course I do! The rules…the rules are you have to take in a great big breath and then you can't breath. Whoever pulls away first is the loser!"

"Okay then let's play!"

Before Toshiro could say anything, he found Momo's lips upon his. They stayed there with their noses pressed uncomfortable against each other and eyes wide open. After about ten seconds both were feeling the need for some oxygen, but neither wanted to give in. They attempted to make the other lose by moving their eyes in strange patterns: rolling them, moving them rapidly from side to side, going crossed eyed, and all sorts of things. Eventually they both pulled away at the same time, taking in great gulps of air.

"I WIN!!" they both shouted.

* * *

Hehe, it's like five one-shots for the price of one, ne?! I've been having the most horrid writer's block lately; I'm glad I managed to give you lovely readers something before I head back to school! Thank you again to all you lovely reviewers! You all get cookies, yay!

Please review!


	7. Taste, Mikaku

o.o I last updated this on the 20th of July?! A lot of stuff happened...and on top of that I went through a zero inspiration spell XD. Well, I won't keep you waiting any longer my lovely readers!

**

* * *

**

**Theme 7: Taste/Mikaku  
**"_Once you've tasted the true flavour of life, you can close your eyes without regret." – Snowy Peach Tsubasa_

* * *

"So what does this taste like?"

"Well why don't you try for yourself Shiro-chan."

Matsumoto just happened to be walking by when this little snippet of conversation just happened to flow into her ear. She grinned slyly and bent down on her knees right outside the closed door. A mischievous giggle escaped through her lips as she pressed her ears against the polished wood. Momo's voice defiantly sounded a bit…seductive. Now this could be some potential blackmail!

"It's okay. Didn't taste as nice as before though."

_Before? Since when did those two get so intimate with each other? Really! Even I haven't licked anybody before._

Matsumoto pressed her ear harder against the door as if doing so would rewind time, allowing her to hear those words once more. She really couldn't believe what she was hearing. Too bad there wasn't a keyhole or anything; she took a second to look up and confirm that there really was no keyhole. Many tenth division shinigamis that passed by stopped to do a double take; it was a strange sight indeed, seeing their fukutaichou so absorbed with the door. Some attempted to ask her what in hell she was doing – of course in politer terms – but she impatiently brushed them off with a wave of her hand.

"Not now, not now,' she muttered fleetingly, answering the same question for the umpteenth time.

She was vaguely aware of the nameless shinigami shuffling away. Her eyes narrowed; she could not hear any voices inside. However she did hear several soft bumps and something that sounded very much like a smacking pair of lips.

"Mm, much better."

_Oh ho! I should probably borrow a camera off Shuuhei._

Before Matsumoto's newly formed plan could further be developed, something very hard and very small collided into her. The mystery projectile sent her skidding across a few inches of floor. As she opened her eyes from her wince, she was aware of a whole lot of pink.

"HIYA BIG BOOBIES! WHATCHA DOIN' HERE SITTIN' ON THE FLOOR LIKE THAT?!" Yachiru yelled out, bouncing up and down like a rubber ball.

Matsumoto didn't even have time to get annoyed at her. As soon as Yachiru started screaming Matsumoto took off with the fastest shunpo she'd ever done in her life. It would not do to get caught by Toshiro; especially since he was doing such…unsavoury things. Yachiru looked on in bewilderment, wondering why Big Boobies took off so quickly. The door opened and Toshiro looked left and right before tilting his head down.

"Was Matsumoto here, Kusajishi?"

"Mm, sure was! Big Boobies – eh! What's all that colourful stuff Yachiru sees?"

Yachiru had poked her head around Toshiro and saw many different kinds of fruits surrounding Momo. There were a couple of watermelons across from her and right next to them, a whole basket full of white peaches; but apart from those two the rest were alien. Though Yachiru didn't know their names she saw a pile of green and red apples, several varieties of pears, plums, melons and other whatnots. She zipped in without invite and promptly latched herself to a wicker basket full of berries.

"Ohhh! Is it candy?"

"Not really," answered Momo. She picked up one each of the different berries. "This blue one is a blueberry, this one's a raspberry, a blackcurrant, a boysenberry, a cranberry and a blackberry."

Momo placed the sample of berried into Yachiru's hands. They were all put into her mouth. As she chewed her smiled widened and her eyes lit up. After swallowing she began to jump up and down with much more energy than if she had just eaten candy. Momo and Toshiro – who had sat back down with her when she gave out the berries – both looked on with just a little hint of fear.

"Hey hey Peachy! Can Yachiru have some more?!"

"S-sure," Momo said with sweatdrops forming. Yachiru wasn't even standing still when she had asked that. She was bouncing off the walls like a ball bearing in a pinball machine. "Here, Kusajisi-fukutaichou, you can have the whole basket."

The basket in question was nearly as large as the hyper fukutaichou. She grabbed it and dashed out, leaving a trail of red, blue and black behind. Not too long after Momo and Toshiro heard distant crashes and yells of "Woo hoo!"

"I didn't really like the taste of blueberry anyway."

Momo fiddled around with something in her lap. "Well why don't you try boysenberry then?"

"Sounds good, but then I might want that basket back if I do end up liking it."

"Oh, so I see how it is," Momo said with feigned hurt. She threw a banana at his head; it bounced off his forehead and into his waiting hands. "You'd rather have what's inside the basket than what's here?"

"Kidding, kidding."

Toshiro closed the door and sat back down inside the ring of fruits directly opposite to Momo. Their knees were almost touching. He glanced around at the citrus and melons and vine fruit surrounding them as Momo was kept busy with her occupation.

"Lucky there's so much fruit here."

* * *

An hour later and Matsumoto was walking back to the tenth division, having deemed it safe once more. In her hand was a small automatic camera, even though she was almost sure those two had stopped with their "activities" long ago. There was always a next time she thought as she absentmindedly twirled the camera by its cord around her wrist.

As she was walking, all around her she could here repetitions of "this tastes great", "it was so nice" and "Hitsugaya-taichou sure was nice for letting us taste some".

Wait, what?

Matsumoto stopped dead in her tracks and vigorously shook her head. She must be taking things out of context! Why would Toshiro let other people lick M- arrrgh! That wasn't even possible to think! Not everything has to be innuendos (though she did have no problems finding some in what she heard before…). She gave her forehead a couple of light smacks and continued on. She was nearly at the tenth division barracks when a little snippet of conversation just happened to flow into her ear (it's true!).

"Ikkaku, she's gorgeous!"

"What the hell are you on about?"

"Hitsugaya-taichou let me try some. She tastes absolutely beautiful!"

Something set off in Matsumoto's mind; causing her to use her fastest ever shunpo twice in one day. So quick did her mind piece gathered pieces of information together and so quick was her shunpo that she didn't hear the rest of the conversation.

"Yeah…" Ikkaku said uncertainly while rubbing his head. "Why are you calling that thing a she?"

Yumichika looked mortally offended and turned his back on Ikkaku.

"Don't listen to such cruel words! Ikkaku's just being mean; yes he is!" he cooed.

Ikkaku sighed as Yumichika went back to snuggling with his cantaloupe, muttering comforting words to it.

* * *

"Woah!"

Matsumoto staggered in the hallway just outside that door. She tried to steady herself after stopping so abruptly, but failed miserably. She fell down on her front with a loud bang. Mere moments later the door opened and Toshiro stuck his head out.

"Oh, it's you."

"What you mean 'oh it's you'?!" Matsumoto flipped herself up and began to shake Toshiro back and forth. "And what are you doing letting other people lick Momo?!"

The entire area became dead silent that you could practically hear the throbbing of the anger vein that appeared on Toshiro's head. He closed his eyes and they trembled, trying to contain the anger in.

"Matsumoto," he said very slowly and very dangerously. "What _exactly _do you mean?"

"I mean exactly what I mean!" she exclaimed, choosing to ignore all the dangerous warning signs flashing like neon lights.

"What exactly goes on in that mind of yours?! Why would I let anyone lick Momo, let alone touch her in those ways?!"

It was silent once again as Toshiro realised what he had yelled out loud. His face became red from a mixture of anger and embarrassment. He quickly dragged Matsumoto in and slammed the door shut. His hand lingered on the knob, gripping it entirely too hard.

"Do you mind telling me where you got _that _idea from?" he hissed.

"Don't play coy taichou. I heard you taking about how it tastes good," she replied flippantly.

"Urm, Rangiku, does this explain it?"

Matsumoto looked around to see Momo sitting in the middle of a ring of fruit, albeit one with less fruit than before.

"So you were just eating this whole time?" she said crestfallenly.

"Don't sound so disappointed Matsumoto!"

"But I was so sure! I even got that feeling y'know?!"

"I'd rather not."

_GROWL!_

In perfect unison Toshiro and Momo looked down at their stomachs. Momo laughed nervously and walked up to Toshiro.

"C'mon Shiro-chan, let's get something to eat."

"Fine."

"Wait wait wait!!" Matsumoto intercepted them, denying their exit with crossed arms. "Why would you two be hungry eh? Weren't you eating this whole time?"

"We gave most of it away," Toshiro said, turning his head away.

"A lot of shinigamis did pass by for some reason," Momo supplied.

"Are you sure? Are you sure you weren't…aha! So maybe taichou wasn't licking you (both Toshiro and Momo turned insanely red from this false statement), but maybe you two shared more than just fruit, hmmm? A kiss or twenty maybe?"

"Argh! Can't Hinamori and I just spend time together without it resulting in comments like this?"

"No, not really. You two are Seireitei's top 'cutest couple if they only got together by now!!' for three years running!" Matsumoto said like the little ray of sunshine she was.

"Great, nice to know," Toshiro said dryly. "C'mon Hinamori, let's go."

"Don't worry taichou! Soon you'll grow up and won't be embarrassed about doing things with Momo!" Matsumoto called after their retreating backs.

* * *

"Damn that Matsumoto," Toshiro cursed just as soon as he was out of earshot.

"It's kind of scary though, isn't it?" Momo asked, slyly slipping her hand into his.

"Yeah. That woman has no aptitude for real work at all, but for things like this she's freakishly skilled I hate to admit."

Momo laughed at this, carefully tucking away her recently acquired box of lip gloss further into her shihakushou.

* * *

:D Haha, I hope all you readers got that! If anything confused you just tell me and I'll explain it.

Please review!


	8. Song, Uta

I don't own Bleach, but I do own the song that will be in this chapter. For the song, there's kind of a tune in my head and I made up all of the lyrics, so that means they're actually worth a read!

**Song: **Everlasting - a Hitsugaya and Hinamori duet

* * *

**Theme 8: Song/Uta  
**_"If you sing from your heart I can listen without ears." – Snowy Peach Tsubasa_

* * *

"What is this?"

Toshiro scowled at the object in his hands, and why shouldn't he be? In it was an outrageously pink flyer that had the words 'Seireitei Song Competition' printed in big bold letters across the top. Matsumoto had forced that fluoro monstrosity into his hands. He very nearly threw it back to her, except that if he did it wouldn't have gotten very far. Instead he opted for calmly folding it in half.

"C'mon taichou! At least _read _it!" Matsumoto whinged.

He sighed and unfolded the paper. He knew full well just how long Matsumoto could whine and whinge. Frankly, it was much less tiring and time consuming to just do as she asked; as long as it wasn't unreasonable, or in Matsumoto's usual case, ludicrous.

**...: Seireitei Song Competition :...**

_Have you ever wondered when exactly Seireitei would hold a song competition? No? Well then you're in for a surprise, because we are! Showcase your talent and enter today! Entry forms can be picked up from the first division main office._

_General Rules:_

_1. All entry forms must be received by the end of this month.  
__2. Once you have been entered you must stay in the competition.  
__3. You may only withdraw under strict circumstances (eg: death by hollow).  
__4. Under no circumstances may you bribe the judge(s).  
__5. You can enter by yourself or in a group. Maximum number of group members is 6 shinigamis.  
__6. At any time during the competition participants can choose to form a group with another participant, groups can disband, etc._

_Competition Rules:_

_1. You have 1 month to come up with your lyrics and to record your song.  
__2. When the competition starts, participants will be given a word. Participants MUST incorporate that word into their song.  
__3. Words cannot be swapped.  
__4. If working with others then all words must be incorporated and all group members must sing.  
__5. Lack of effort will not be accepted. There will be serious ramifications for any participants breaching this rule._

_Judges:_

_Shigekuni Genryusai Yamamoto__  
__Byakuya Kuchiki  
Ikkaku Madarame  
__Nemu Kurotsuchi  
__Kiyone Kotetsu_

**...: Good Luck :...**

_Competition initiated by Shigekuni Genryusai Yamamoto. Advertisement created and distributed by the Shinigami Women's Association._

"'Advertisement created and distributed by the Shinigami's Women's Association'," Toshiro quoted. He quirked up an eyebrow and looked at the vivid pink. "By that you mean you and Kusajishi decided to blind everyone senseless."

"Well it was fun." Matsumoto began to reminisce.

"Here." Toshiro thrust the flyer into Matsumoto's chest and started to walk away.

"Wait taichou!" She waved the flyer around. "Don't you want a copy of the rules?"

"Why would I need a copy of the rules? I'm not entering."

Matsumoto smiled deviously and pranced out in front of him. She waved the flyer in his face. "I told you to _read_, taichou."

Toshiro factored in her smug expression and her emphasis and scanned through the page. Right down near the bottom, in very fine print – obviously because it would cause some murderous reaction – it read…

_- All taichous and fukutaichous (sans the judges) are automatically entered into the competition, as decided by Yamamoto-soutaichou himself. This is to: 1) encourage widespread participation and, 2) to set a good example for all shinigamis by participating in cultural events that promote involvement._

_- Judges (sans Yamamoto-soutaichou) were selected at random and may not trade positions with other shinigamis._

"Are you serious?!"

Toshiro tore the page in half, again and again and again, till there was a snowfall of pink confetti. Matsumoto smiled brightly as she rocked on the balls of her feet.

"As serious as I'll ever be!"

And she turned around, leaving him with the echo of her chipper voice. Toshiro glared at each piece of torn paper, willing them to spontaneously combust. There was no way he could override the words of the soutaichou himself. He squared his shoulders and headed for his happy place: his office, where he was free to mope, grumble and sulk.

On second thought, maybe it isn't best described as a happy place.

"Random selection, yeah right!" he scoffed as he slammed the door shut. "Who wants to bet Kuchiki-taichou bribed his way into the judges?"

* * *

"Oh hi, Hitsugaya-kun!"

Toshiro just grumbled in response as he sullenly walked over to Momo. He did not want to be here today, entered in a competition against his own will. Cultural events? Pffth, more like sadistic torture. At least someone – he narrowed his eyes at his best friend – was enjoying herself, swaying and humming impatiently.

"Oh cheer up, Hitsugaya-kun!" she said when she caught sight of his surly face. "This is going to be fun!"

"Yes, tons of fun," he added dryly.

Before Momo could say anything back, Yamamoto's voice boomed across the room. He effectively silenced the noisy participants. They all stopped and looked at him expectantly. He cleared his throat and began.

"Thank you all for participating in this event. We are all looking forward to what you can come up with at the end of a month. Now please form a single line in front of Kurotsuchi-fukutaichou, and pick a slip of paper from the hat. That will be your word."

The participants all scrambled to form a single line as Yamamoto and the three other judges left the room. There were many participants who were younger shinigamis; mostly girls. They ran back and forth to drag their friends into groups, squealing and jumping like children. There were many more participants than Toshiro first assumed. While most looked excited, there were a few faces that matched his; Soi Fon, for instance. She was radiating such a menacing aura that people gave her a wide berth.

After a few noisy minutes, Toshiro and Momo reached Nemu. When he plunged his hand into the hat, he was surprised at how many slips of paper remained. He hoped he would get something easy to work with. He didn't open it right away; instead he dragged Momo by the upper arm outside.

"What did you get? What did you get?" Momo asked excitedly. "I got 'heart'."

She waved her slip of paper in front of his face as evidence, though she was moving it far too quickly for him to see the word. He sighed and opened his slip of paper. On it was the word: harmony.

"Aw, you got such a beautiful word."

"Who cares? I suppose I'll have to throw it in anywhere and be done with it."

"Where's the fun in that?"

Toshiro gave her a sceptical look. She sighed, but then smiled up towards the sky.

"It'll be fine, you'll see. Me, I'm going to create a song straight from my heart. I'll prove it to you, Toshiro. Just for you."

* * *

Momo leant back against her chair, stretching her arms straight up. She made a sound of contentment before relaxing her muscles and returning upright. In one hand she aimlessly flicked her pencil while grabbing her sheet of paper in the other. Her eyes scanned through her lyrics so far.

If she was to be honest to herself, there was something missing. Sure she had yet to flesh out a chorus, but it wasn't the absence of something obvious that created this thought. Her lyrics; they lacked…something. They didn't seem to fit into her mouth, and they didn't roll off her tongue. When she read them, she didn't feel like singing them. They told the message she wanted them to tell, but they were empty. They were just words.

She had the body. It just needed a heart.

No chance a body could ever be whole without a heart. These empty lyrics needed to be pulsating with a beat, a whole and complete beat. Perhaps these words reflected upon the writer. But had she not promised Toshiro that she would create a song straight from her heart? If she said that she would so it just for him, surely she would.

Of course she would.

There was time. She was determined now to make herself – whether in mind, body or spirit – whole. But what would she need to be whole? Would it take a quarter, a third, a half? Did she have to satisfy something – herself? Others? Did she have to find something? Learn something? It was going to happen, she was sure of it.

Then she knew the lyrics would come naturally, just like breathing. She will give them their heart, she will give them their pulse, and then they will sing on their own. It will sound like a morning bell, clearer than any waters. Because she will have given them a voice. A voice straight from her heart.

And it suddenly became clear. She realised her heart has been yearning for something just within reach, but never quite. No wonder it was just words on her page and not lyrics. How could something be complete when their two destined halves were not joined together?

* * *

Toshiro sat at his desk. The constant tapping of his pencil broke through the cricket chirps. He was at his desk, underneath a dim light. A blank sheet of paper was in front of him and many crumpled balls were scattered around him. It was a fortnight since the beginning of the competition; his time was half gone and he had yet to come up with something, anything, worthwhile.

During the start of the competition, he felt no drive to put in the maximum amount of effort. He figured he would write down the first things that came to mind and tack them to a tune. It didn't have to be on-key or pleasant. In fact it would have been much easier to do so. But something stopped him: a voice, a memory. A memory of _her, _standing so serenely against the railing, gazing up at the sky and promising him a song from her heart. He could not ignore that.

He glanced out sideways and saw the slip of paper.

_Harmony_

So what is harmony? Harmony: a noun (har-mon-ne) meaning friendly agreement or a pleasing combination of sounds. But this in itself was not harmonic at all. How can those blocky, rigid words possibly describe something so elegant and free sounding as harmony?

Harmony is a perfect blend of multiple things. Two, ten, ninety – the quantity doesn't matter. It is the quality of the end product that counts for everything. How can harmony be anything less than a single entity that exudes the essence of the multiple parts that made it? A perfect blend – left to simmer gently – flavours entwining, qualities merging. How wonderful.

Was it this that hindered him? Of course, how could it not be this? There could be no harmony between him and this task. He wanted to make it work, but it just couldn't when he loathed it. This friction was grating, like nails across a blackboard. And when he thought of this that hindered him, the friction grew worse. How shameful, that he could not get past all this and repay her promise with the same. He tried, and the goal became ever distant. Was it his fault?

Was there something missing?

If it was harmony then he could admit to himself that he had almost none. His body housed tumult and confusion. It raged deep within him and lashed out at every cell in his body. The thunderous thrashing of his inner turmoil, the pain, the cynicism, resonated through every bone, muscle and organ.

And yet it wasn't like this, not all the time. When one condition was fulfilled, he had complete harmony. With that one simple change it was like his inner battle never existed. Yes, it did not merely just die down or disappeared. It was as if it never existed. And he could not be any more grateful.

That was his harmony. The other ingredient that blended so well with him, creating something amazing. He knew he could complete this task. He only needed his other half. Harmony would follow, without a doubt.

* * *

The five judges sat at a rectangular table with Yamamoto seated at the head. Only today, the day the competition ended, did they tell the participants that they would be conducting a private judging. It was much to the chagrin of the more reluctant participants. But it would not have mattered; they planned on putting the songs on display after they announced the winner.

Four hours later, after many rewinds, forwards, laughing, crying and smiling, the judges reached the last tape. Yamamoto slid it into the tape player and pressed the play button. The opening was a slow and sweet piano solo, joined later by the graceful notes of a violin. Then they heard her voice: Momo Hinamori's voice, soft like floating clouds.

_Like this everlasting dream at night  
__Breaking at dawn, and I can't recall  
__What is this that I feel?  
__This heavy weight, gripping around my soul_

Then, surprising all of them, her voice was replaced by the one of Toshiro Hitsugaya. His voice was one they could not imagine him having: tender and loving.

_**I think to my self, I wish to myself  
**__**I hope tens of times, hundreds of times  
**__**Until I just can't ignore it anymore  
**__**I need to get past this familiarity**_

Momo's voice slid in to join his. They san together and the effects were instantaneous. They were captivating. Their voices did not just compliment each other's. It was like they were born together, only to be separated immediately. No one realised until now, just how destined they were.

_**No…no, no  
**__**We need to surpass it together  
**__**Together**_

They enunciated the last word and let it hang in the air before starting the chorus. The rhythm of the chorus was more upbeat than the previous stanzas, and the instrumentals changed to match it.

_**If I could hold your hand in that sea of swirling confusion  
**__**If I could find your face among the moving crowd  
**__**If I could catch your eyes, just like the twinkling stars  
**__**There's no other possibility  
**__**We will fly; everlasting**_

_Morning has come; the daybreak vanished behind the sands of time  
__**And still I haven't decided**  
__I won't lie; it's a suffocating warm scarf  
__**But the scent I breathe in belongs only to you**_

_I lie to myself, thinking that it's always impossible  
__**I choose to see, all those imaginary bumps along the way  
**Until I think I can't do anything but fall  
__**It seems like the mist is thickening**_

_**But it's not…it's not  
**__**We need to clear it away together  
**__**Together**_

_**If I could hold your hand in that sea of swirling confusion  
**__**If I could find your face among the moving crowd  
**__**If I could catch your eyes, just like the twinkling stars  
**__**There's no other possibility  
**__**We will fly; everlasting**_

_One day you will see  
__**One day there will be  
**__**The reflections, reflections of who that we are  
**__**Finally, no longer suppressing the cries of our souls**_

_One day…  
__**One day…**_

_**If I could hold your hand in that sea of swirling confusion  
**__**If I could find your face among the moving crowd  
**__**If I could catch your eyes, just like the twinkling stars  
**__**There's no other possibility  
**__**We will fly; everlasting**_

_There is no other possibility that I will accept  
__**There is no other possibility for anything else  
**__**We will fly; everlasting  
**__**We will fly; everlasting**_

_**We will fly…**_

_**Everlasting**_

Their last lyric faded away with the last of the piano notes, leaving the judges sitting in awed silence. A smiled appeared under Yamamoto's long beard.

"I believe we have a winner, do you agree?"

Ikkaku, Nemu and Kiyone all nodded their heads, but Byakuya slowly shook his.

"While I'll admit that their song was above the standard, I believe they did not use their given words. Therefore they cannot be the winners."

"Do you remember the exact wording of the rule, Kuchiki-taichou?" asked Yamamoto. His eyes glinted with something Byakuya could not yet see.

"Of course," he replied, sounding a little insulted. "'When the competition starts, participants will be given a word. Participants must incorporate that word into their song.'"

"Yes, they must incorporate their words into their _song_, not lyrics. I believe their words were 'heart' and 'harmony'. Do you need to hear it again?"

"No, of course not. I agree, they are the winners."

And how could they not be? A song they created and sung together; how could it not be anything but a harmonious melody straight from their hearts? Something that will stay with them and play when they close their eyes, connecting everything to each other. Together, they will stay…

Everlasting.

* * *

Okay, well I have a scant two or so ideas for themes left before I'm completely blank, so if any of you have suggestions I would love to hear them! Oh, and something else for you readers to. Unfinished lyrics; it seemed a waste for them to rot away in a word document...

_I close my eyes, but I wish you could see  
__How I've waited for you  
__Standing here, standing still  
__On this snowy winter day_

_Even though we're standing on the same shadow  
__It feels like we're just worlds apart  
__We can't go back; I can't wish for the impossible  
__But I can hope for a new beginning_

_There's nothing I wouldn't do  
__For the sake of letting my heart reach you  
__So if I could close my eyes and grasp this dream  
__I would surely do it a million times_

Please Review! (and if possible, some suggestions for future themes please)


	9. Telephone, Denwa

**Theme 9: Telephone/Denwa  
**"_I don't answer the phone. I get the feeling whenever I do that there will be someone on the other end." – Fred Couples_

* * *

I really shouldn't be in this situation at all, standing here with red staining my face, feeling like the biggest dupe ever. What happened to the tensai of Soul Society? Where did he go? Sure, it's one thing to be able to see through a complicated web of deceit and trickery in the interrogation room, but _this_?!

"Stop laughing, Hinamori," I managed to choke out. I scowled down at my childhood friend, bent over clutching her stomach and about to drop to the ground. My embarrassment was flaring, and I hastened to cover it anger. "It's not like I was…"

'_Jealous.'_

"Aw, but – _hehe – _S-shi – _hehe – _Shiro – Ahahahah!"

Oh dear god, she was laughing so much she could hardly get that accursed nickname out. _How _in the name of Soul Society did this happen?!

* * *

The office was brightly lit through natural means and the air was quite peaceful. I could hear none of the usual racket that was often the source for unpleasant headaches. Matsumoto was out for the day. She'd been out since the crack of dawn, on some mission or another. There was nothing but me, my office, my paperwork…and this unnatural feeling of calm.

It was an omen.

It had to be. I'm hardly cliché; what need was there for rolling purple clouds and impending thunder to signal misfortune? Something horrible, or at the very least undesirable, was going to happen today. I glared at the papers before me.

"Taichou!" Matsumoto twirled into my office. I took it as a sign.

"No," I said before she could get another word out.

She pouted at my stringency. "Well fine then, I just won't ask your permission!"

At once, she busied herself flitting around my office. In reality it was _our _office rather than just _mine_, but Matsumoto was hardly ever around save for times when she'd collapse through the door from a lengthy drinking session down at Happy Season Sake. I leant forward on my elbows and rubbed the bridge of my nose as memories came flooding back. Sometimes I wondered how I ever put up with her. Now was one of those times.

"There."

I felt Matsumoto put down something on my desk. Though dreading what I might see, I opened my eyes. It was silver, not very large and had plenty of buttons. It looked like an over-sized Soul Pager. I made sure to tell her that. "Matsumoto, it's an over-sized Soul Pager."

"No it's not!" she countered. "It's a telephone! This is what humans use instead of Jigoku Chous. Look," – She picked up the handset and waved it around – ", I even got the cordless one so it's more convenient!"

"If it functions the same way as the Jigoku Chous, why bother?"

She didn't falter at my logic. "There are plenty of extra things this thing can do." She turned the telephone so the buttons were facing her and punched in a quick succession of numbers. "Here taichou," she said, turning it back to face me. "This buttons' mine, this one is Hinamori's and this one is Gin–"

I quickly cut across her. "Why does _he _have a phone? He better not be using it to threaten Hinamori."

"Oh relax, taichou! I didn't put Hinamori's number on his memory. How dumb do you think I am?"

"Do you really want me to answer that, Matsumoto?"

"No, not really," she said nonchalantly. "Okay, I'm going to talk to Hinamori now! Bye bye taichou!"

With a skip in her step she exited the office, slamming the door shut behind her. I leant my head on a hand and stared at the silver box placed at the very centre of my paper-covered desk. The telephone line snaked it way across the length of the floor and into the outlet on the other wall. Who knew the Seireitei had modems? I picked up the handset, and nearly dropped it when Matsumoto's voice came spilling out.

"This will work!" Her voice was louder than usual, and it had an echoic effect. I found myself thinking that this _thing _was more trouble than it was worth. I would have put down the handset in an instant, if her ambiguous statement didn't intrigue me so. What was she planning?

"Really?" That was Hinamori's voice. "Do you really think he'd come?"

"I wouldn't be surprised if he broke down the door."

I stiffened. Who was this "he" they were talking about. My hand clenched the handset tighter. There was no sound from either fukutaichous and I wondered if I'd been caught out. No, I could justify this. If Hinamori was seeing someone, then I would have to make sure he wasn't from some corrupted hell-hole. I had to protect her!

"Is he there?" Hinamori asked.

"Ohhh yeah. We got him."

"I feel kinda bad…Isn't this a little…mean?"

"You won't be thinking that once he comes barging in with that look on his face. And I can one hundred percent guarantee that he'll kiss like there's no tomorrow. "

The handset nearly snapped in half. But it's…none of my…business…if…if Hinamori wants to…ki…ki… – I couldn't even finish that thought. If anyone but me– I mean, if anyone lays a finger (or lips) on her, there'll be some glacial retribution for whoever the poor sap may be.

"Quiet, Rangiku-san! He can hear us!"

"Well I'm right outside his division and he hasn't caught me yet. You'll be thanking me once he kisses you. …So, how _is _Izuru doing these days?"

This was worse than horrible.

I was gone before another word was said. The handset clacked uselessly onto the ground and I all but tore through the wooden door. In three shunpos I reached the fifth division, surrounded by a raging aura. An instant later, the door to Hinamori's room was before me and I swung it open. It rebounded off the wall, but I was already inside by the time it slammed shut a fraction of a second later.

Hinamori was staring up at me from her chair, half-frozen with the handset still pressed against her ears. Her brown eyes were wide open and her mouth in a small, surprised O.

"Shiro-ch-"

She couldn't get out much more, because a moment later I was directly in front of her. Nothing but one thought was on my mind, and I immediately acted on it. I kissed her, crushing my lips against hers. After that initial surge, I eased up a bit, gently caressing.

I pulled away, slowly realizing exactly what I had just done. I wanted so badly to avert my eyes elsewhere, but they persisted in staying locked onto hers. She mirrored what I imagined my own expression to me. And then she started to laugh.

* * *

"Hi.Na.Mo.Ri." I gritted out every syllable, what little left of my dignity vanishing.

She wiped away the last few tears of mirth and I steeled myself for whatever she was planning to say next. What I wasn't expecting was for her to press _her _lips willingly against mine. It was a small peck, but relief bloomed inside of me.

"Don't be jealous, Shiro-chan," she said coyly.

"I wasn't–" But I was cut short when she arched an eyebrow up. She wasn't going to have any of it.

Someone nearby cleared their throat. We both turned our heads and saw Matsumoto right outside the window, leaning in on the sill.

"Back to the many things a telephone can do. Jigoku Chous: private. Telephones: not so private, but oh so useful for three-way conversations." She grinned widely. "But don't you know better than to eavesdrop, taichou? You may end up…_misinterpreting _things."

* * *

I'm back!! Haha, though it might be the same wait for the next theme!

Please review!


	10. Halloween Special

**Theme 10: Holiday Special – Halloween  
**"_Trick or treat!"_

* * *

_Trick or treat, smell my feet  
__Give me something good to eat  
__If you don't, I don't care  
__You can eat my underwear_

It was that time of year again, where when the sun sets does all the fun begin. In the wealthier sections of Rukongai, all the children donned costumes ranging from the classic bed sheet ghosts and cardboard robots to life-like wolverines and miniature witches. They walked around unaccompanied by adults, in groups of three and four, collecting sweet treats from door to door. In the more undomesticated of sections, the children ran about in their tattered clothes stealing with increased frequency, filling both their needs for tricks and treats.

This year (for reasons unknown) Yamamoto was in the festive season. As such, Seireitei was aglow with muted orange lights that could be seen even from the windows of Kukaku's house. Candelabrums holding white waxed candles hung every few feet along the wooden walkways while lanterns swayed overhead. Motifs of cardboard bats, pumpkins and ghosts were stuck to every available surface and cobwebs were stuck from the ceiling, some dangling down in masses, creating curtains. For a unique shinigami touch, plastic replicas of hollow heads were stuck onto the doors.

Momo was in her room, fixing up her hair with the clip she borrowed from Nanao. She stuck out her tongue as she tried with no avail to secure her hair in the correct style.

"Nanao-san, how do you put up your hair?" she asked, letting her hands fall and her hair scatter. "I don't know how you do it everyday."

"What do you mean, Momo-chan?!" Rukia said indignantly. "How do _you _put up _your _hair everyday?! In the whole wide world of hair styles, you had to go for a bun!"

"I guess it does take a while to get used to," she admitted. "I'll help you after I'm done. Oh, thanks Nanao-san!"

Momo looked at herself in the mirror, now a spitting image of the eight division fukutaichou, Nanao Ise. After straightening out her plastic-lensed glasses (real ones made her dizzy) she stepped across and began to fiddle with Rukia's hair. Over in the corner sitting on her bed were Yachiru, Isane and Nanao. Isane was trying to get Yachiru to sit still so she could jam the white wig onto her head. Isane and Nanao had both dyed their hair; Isane's lavender to black and Nanao's black to bubblegum pink.

"There, all done."

"Yay! Thanks, Healer Girl! Do you think people will think I'm Snowy? So then if I eat candy will they think that it's Snowy eating candy?"

"I don't think so, Kusajishi-san" Isane replied absentmindedly. Her face was turned towards Nanao, who was inking in a 69 on her face with a black marker.

"Well Yachiru thinks so – HEY! Kenny clone!"

Yachiru zipped over towards the window where Yoruichi and Soi Fon were. The windows were thrown open to air out the fumes from the two entire cans of hairspray it took for Yoruichi to get her hair in the style of Kenpachi's. Soi Fon was on a chair, standing on her toes and trying to place the very last bell in place. Her normally bound hair was let loose, dyed purple and tied up in a very high ponytail.

"Kitty-cat looks just like Kenny," Yachiru said as she clambered onto Yoruichi's shoulder.

"Get off the shoulder of my – er, I mean Yoruichi-sama, you little runt," snapped Soi Fon.

"I'm not on Kitty-cat's shoulder. I'm on Kenny shoulder! _You're_ kitty-cat!"

"You know what I mean! Now be gone!"

"No one tells Snowy what to do! I can make things go cold! Hado no ni! Koori!" _(Destruction Spell No. Two! Ice!)_

A small stream of glittering powder flew from Yachiru's outstretched hand. Upon hitting Soi Fon's face, it solidified into a thin layer of ice. With a gleeful shout, Yachiru jumped down from Yoruichi's shoulder and ran around the spacious room with an angered Soi Fon chasing her.

* * *

Half an hour later and the female shinigami were all ready for the Halloween party being held in the first division hall. Momo sighed as she closed the door; she really liked that vase. The sun was nearly set as they walked through the outer walkways, strengthening the lights of the candles and lanterns.

"I wonder who everyone else got," Momo wondered out loud. She shifted the weight of the enormous tome she was carrying. Luckily it was just a foam replica.

"I heard Renji got Matsumoto." Rukia sniggered. "I can't wait to see how he pulls it off."

"Well Blady got Older Snowy, so now he has some hair!" Yachiru supplied.

"All I heard was that that drunkard Matsumoto is going as me," Soi Fon said irritably. "To think someone as lazy and loud, not to mention drunk half the time is going as me!" She swung her head, causing her ponytail to swerve around and hit her in the eyes. When she caught sight of her now purple hair, her expression became pacified. "Ahhh, but _I_ am going as the wonderful Yoruichi-sama!"

They padded along, talking and laughing. Before they even reached the vicinity of the first division, they could hear the music booming out. It wasn't hard to locate the hall. All of the incandescent bulbs were turned off, with the only source of light coming from the giant disco ball dangling from the ceiling and the few candles scattered about. Helium balloons were everywhere, some weighed down. Many shinigamis were already there, and as such the pile of sake bottles was half consumed.

"We'come ev'ry ooooonnneeeee."

Matsumoto was in front of them, tipping slightly in every which way. Her hair was black and ruffled messily; Momo assumed it was once neat. She was wearing the halter neck uniform of Soi Fon's, but with a much lower neckline and unnecessary triangles cut in at the sides. In one hand was her copy of the haori and in the other was an empty bottle of sake. Soi Fon turned red.

"Idiot! I should have you jailed for tarnishing the name of Soi Fon!" she screeched.

The onlookers quickly and quietly shuffled away from the fuming Soi Fon and the oblivious Matsumoto. Momo was weaving her way through the crowd when she caught sight of something. It sent her into a fit of giggles.

"Rukia-san, look." She pointed to someone a few feet away.

"He didn't!" Rukia exclaimed. Laughing, she grabbed hold of Momo's sleeve and dragged her over to where Renji, Izuru and Hisagi were standing.

Izuru was wearing Iba-style sunglasses and a looser fitting shihakushou. He drew in a thin moustache but neglected to dye his hair in the proper colour. Hisagi wore a bright red wig and was only wearing his hakama to showcase the temporary tattoos that ran all over his back and chest. However, Renji was wearing his hair down, along with a revealing shihakushou – one that revealed two flesh-coloured balloons taped to his chest.

"Nice breasts there, Matsumoto-fukutaichou," Rukia teased as she poked his bountiful bosom.

"And when you're drunk," – Hisagi broke off, giggling. Clearly he was in that very state – ",they feel just like the real things!"

He hugged Renji – who looked slightly disturbed – and tipsily walked away towards a ring of shinigamis surrounding Shunsui. He was dancing wildly, proving that one could still break out the moves while holding in his liquor. A lampshade was on his head, his only attempt at dressing up as Komamura. In the midst of all the yelling and cheering, Momo could hear Isane say, "Shuuhei! Why are you so drunk already?!"

"Where's Hitsugaya-kun?" Momo asked, turning in a full circle and looking around.

"Not surprised he's not here, the party pooper," Renji replied in a freakishly squeaky voice. Momo looked down and saw a helium balloon in his hands, fingers pinching close the opening. "Wow, now I really sound like Rangiku."

"Oh, stop being so immature, Renji," Rukia said in the same high-pitched voice. She and Renji laughed, sounding like a pair of mice, and shoved their balloons into Izuru's face, inviting him to join.

* * *

After a few delightfully festive hours, Momo exited the hall. With as much fun as she was having, she couldn't shake off that nagging feeling that told her Toshiro should be there, even if he wasn't one for parties. With a hardened resolve, she set off to find him. She looked in all the usual places: his office, his room, the Seireitei Archives and the rooftops, but he was nowhere to be found. Not conceding to defeat just yet, she took off into the first district of Rukongai, Jurrian.

"Shiro-chan?" she called out as she poked around their childhood home. Oba-san was not home either. She was probably out helping with all the festivities. Momo looked fondly at the carved pumpkin sitting on the porch before walking into the heart of Juurian.

Strings of lights hung between stalls and the children were running around everywhere, swinging around their plastic pumpkin basket with contents threatening to spill. The smell of pumpkins dominated the air: pumpkin soup, pumpkin pie, pumpkin seeds, pumpkin cookies, pumpkin juice. Momo found herself wandering aimlessly through the paths.

She berated herself when she finally remembered what she was here for, and was about to turn around when a chorus of delighted squeals caught her attention. She jogged over towards the district square where she saw a mass of gleeful children surrounding a person dressed as one of those bed sheet ghosts. The person had drawn a funny little smiley face on the sheet. When she walked close, she saw that the ghost was handing out candy by the handful. She smiled; what a kind person.

"Hey." She bent down to the eye level of a small boy dressed as a dragon. "Who is that ghost?"

"I don't know lady, but it's real nice! It comes every year and gives out lots and lots of candy!" The boy grinned and showed her his acquisitions before scampering off with his friends. "Bye bye lady!"

Momo looked up at the ghost and smiled. This was something her oba-san would do. She remembered all the Halloweens she used to spend with oba-san and Toshiro back then. Sometimes, she and Toshiro would get into "pumpkin wars". That is to say, they spent the entire night chasing each other around, throwing mushed up pumpkin flesh and spitting seeds at each other.

When the crowd around the ghost dissipated, Momo walked up to it. "Hiya ghost-san!" she chirped.

The ghost turned towards her and then turned away so that she was left staring at a space of white sheet. It was rummaging around with something and finally, it turned back around, holding out a single piece of candy for her to take.

"Oh, thanks!"

As soon as Momo plucked the sweet from the hand, another wave of eager children came, shoving her away. She could only smile as she walked away, unwrapping the sweet and popping it into her mouth. White chocolate caramel, her favourite! She smiled and ran back to where the ghost was.

"Ghost-san! I'm heading back to the house, kay?! Make sure my Shiro-chan is there!"

* * *

Momo was sitting on the front porch, her fingers running around the rim of the pumpkin carving. She was humming a little concoction of her own, waiting for the time to pass. A voice spoke up behind her.

"Oi, Bed Wetter."

Momo turned around, glasses sliding off a little. "Eh?! Shiro-chan? When did you get here?"

"A second ago. You just didn't pay attention."

"Oh, I see. Well then, where were you? You didn't come to the party!"

"It's none of your business, baka."

"Don't call me that! I wanted you to be there!"

"Che." He folded his arms and turned away, blushing slightly. "So now that I've done my part for the economy, do you want to head back to the party with me?"

"Yes!" she replied happily, standing up and grabbing hold of his hand.

He looked at her for a good minute. "Why are you dressed up as Ise-fukutaichou of all things?"

"Baka Shiro-chan!" She playfully hit him on the head with her foam book. "You didn't even bother reading the invitation, did you?"

* * *

"What the hell?" Toshiro's jaw dropped as Kenpachi passed by him, wearing a long floral print haori. The edges were tattered Kenpachi-style, but it still didn't change the fact that it was _pink_. The party was nearly to its end, and many shinigamis were blissfully drunk.

Momo sighed. "You're the only one who's not dressed up, Hitsugaya-kun."

"I'm not the only one. What about Ayasegawa?" He nodded his head towards Yumichika, who was indeed not dressed up as another member of the Gotei 13.

"Yeah…he said that he was too beautiful to be dressing up as anybody else, and he also said that no one was beautiful enough to go as him, so…" she trailed off.

"Of course," he said dryly. "C'mon Bed Wetter, this is stupid. Everybody's drunk off their feet."

He spun around and grabbed Momo's wrist, walking briskly back to his division. He was unaware of the flush coming onto Momo's cheeks. The trip back to the tenth division was uneventful, and the pair sank down onto the couch. Momo lied down, resting her head on the armrest.

"So Hitsugaya-kun, is it fun being a ghost?"

"W-what?" he spluttered.

"Is it fun being a ghost?" she enunciated.

"How would I know?"

"I wish you'd give me more credit, Shiro-chan! You know that I know that you're the only one who knows what my favourite sweet is. I'm surprised you don't like candy." She rose up and kissed him on the cheek. "Because you're so sweet, Shiro-chan," she murmured into his ear.

"Yeah…well…all that candy Ukitake-taichou gives me has to go _somewhere_!"

* * *

_Originally, I wasn't going to do this, but then after reading a few Halloween fics and daydreaming about candy, I wondered: Where exactly DOES all of the candy Jushiro gives to Toshiro go?? And so there you have it; a very early Halloween special. Don't kill me for the minimal Hitsuhina; I really wanted to write out the party! And sometimes less is more!_

_Happy Halloween and trick-o-treating! Ahh, I remember when I used to sing that song up there in the beginning; good times._

_Please Review!_


	11. Puzzle, Nozo

**Theme 11: Puzzle/Nazo  
**_"A puzzle is like a picture; it's worth a thousand words…you just have to put it together." – Snowy Peach Tusbasa_

* * *

"A-A-ACHOO!"

Momo batted away the offending dust. She and Toshiro were cleaning out the rooms in their oba-san's house. She was getting on with time and she really did need their help once in a while; the amount of dust and whatnots that gathered in some of the places was unbelievable! She rubbed the bridge of her nose and resumed her sweep at the living room floor.

"I hope oba-san's enjoying herself at Masashi-san's," she mused as she used her toe to tease out a pebble wedged into the corner. It popped out, bounced against her toe and flew a few inches to her left before finally becoming still. She swept it into the ever growing mound near the front door.

It took well over half an hour to rid the various surfaces of what seemed like years of collected dust. Finally, there was nothing left to do (dusting-wise) but to sweep the mound of dust and filth right out the door. A devilish grin came onto her face. She stuck her tongue out, decided on where to best aim, raised her broom and forcefully sent the mound flying.

Unfortunately, Toshiro chose that exact moment to appear in the doorway.

The broom fell down with a clatter as Momo hid her face in her hands, peeking through her fingers. The cloud of dust was settling, but most of it on her dear, and soon to be very grumpy, friend. Tentatively, she lowered her hands as he came into view.

"Oops." She scratched her cheek. "S-sorry, Hitsugaya-kun, but really, it was your own fault for coming this way."

"Hinamori," he gritted out through his teeth. "How is this _my _fault?!" He took a step forward, but the movement caused the gathered dust in his hair to fall and he spent the next five seconds enraged, trying to return his hair to its normal colour.

"Well, you knew I was cleaning up here, Hitsugaya-kun," she insisted, and then laughed when he gave her a murderous glare, knowing that her playful banter wasn't out of line. She picked up her broom and trotted over behind him, giving him a small push. "You go take a shower and I'll finish up here."

"And whose fault is it that I have to waste my time with a shower?"

"Yours," Momo replied with a firm nod.

* * *

It was three in the afternoon and the bed sheets were all drying in the nonexistent wind. Toshiro and Momo were nearly done cleaning the last room; the room they used to share back then when they were kids and the very idea of being a shinigami was nonsensical. Toshiro undid the latch on the window and aired out the few pillowcases while Momo was clearing out the small closet on the adjacent wall.

"I can't believe oba-san kept everything the way it was," Toshiro noted with a wistful tone.

"Well…" Momo broke off into an incoherent mumble.

"I couldn't hear you, Bed Wetter. Speak up."

"I _said_!" She cleared her throat. "I said…maybe oba-san was just afraid of losing a piece from her puzzle."

"What do you mean?"

Momo turned back to her work, standing up on her toes on a chair to reach into the depths of the top shelf. For a minute, she let Toshiro's question hang unanswered in the air. She withdrew her hand and bent down to deposit a yellow sliver of paper into the trash bag. "A puzzle's that's missing a piece is incomplete and if you compare that to life…well, it's a scary thought."

"When did you get so perceptive?" he questioned with obvious surprise.

Momo blew up her cheeks in anger and threw several moth balls at him; they failed to even cover half the distance and rolled pitifully on the floor. "I'm always perceptive, Shiro-chan, thank you very much!" She stuck her tongue out at him. "Nya!"

"Just asking," he grumbled, turning back around to clean again. He was just about to take the futons out when he heard Momo make an exclamation of surprise. He turned around and saw a large, dusty frame in her hands with a small circle wiped clean in the centre.

"What do you have there, Bed Wetter?"

She jumped up and attempted to hide the frame behind her back. "N-nothing, Hitsugaya-kun! Nothing at all!"

He raised a sceptical eyebrow, dropped the futon and walked over. "Please, I'm not blind and even if I was, you're terrible at lying and I could overpower you either way. You've lost," he simply said before holding out his hand, wordlessly demanding for the item.

Momo's eyes slid from side to side, but she admitted defeat with a sigh and slowly held out the frame. Once Toshiro received it, she placed her hand behind her back and looked to the side; her face was beginning to flush. Curious as to what was behind the glass and why Momo was so hesitant in giving it to him, Toshiro wiped away at the remaining dust, revealing a puzzle. It was a landscape depicting a beautiful countryside in which snow had recently covered. It was twilight in the picture and everything was bathed in an ethereal glow. However, it was incomplete; a small portion of the sky and rolling hills was not there.

Toshiro looked hardly at the puzzle. "Why does this seem so familiar?"

He heard a series of soft clattering noises and looked up to see Momo in front of him, holding a small, faded box close to her chest. She met his eyes and then looked back down again, blushing. "W-well…we started this a long time ago, back when we were kids. You said that we'd finish it the next day, but the next day was my first day at the Shinigami Academy, and I didn't want to finish it without you, so…I put it away like that."

Toshiro was struck speechless for a moment. "B-baka. Procrastinating this long when you could've finished it fine by yourself."

"I suppose…" she said, lowering her hands.

"…Hey…so let's go finish this thing." Without thinking, he reached out and grabbed one of her wrists. They did nothing for a moment, except stare at where they were connected. Red rose up their faces; Toshiro removed his hand while at the same time Momo pulled her wrist away. They turned their heads away in opposite directions while a silence descended. Toshiro cleared his throat and started to walk. "Coming, Bed Wetter?"

"H-hey!" she spluttered out, but nonetheless followed him.

They walked out onto the sun kissed porch and sat down on its warm wooden planks. Momo tipped out the contents of the box so that they were scattered between them. Carefully, Toshiro removed the frame and they began to complete the long-overdue puzzle together. The skies sent down pleasant breezes, so they were content to just sit there in the silence.

Soon, they became absorbed and didn't notice that they were both reaching for the same piece. Their hands brushed up against one another, causing them both to raise their heads. It must have been only two seconds that they stared at each other, but it seemed like an eternity. Momo averted her gaze, snatched the piece their hands were floating over and busied herself with finding its place. Toshiro tried not to stare.

The puzzle was down to its last two pieces, with Momo and Toshiro each holding one. At the same time, they shot their hands forwards and placed their pieces in.

"Done!" they both exclaimed, looking up to smile at one another; they just didn't realise how close their heads were. Their excitement became short-lived and they stared at each other, wondering what would happen if their lips were to meet. Neither of them seemed to realise that that they were slowly moving closer to each other, testing to see if they would pull back. They closed their eyes; Toshiro's fingers brushed against Momo's cheeks-

"Momo? Toshiro?"

They both jumped and instantly placed far more distance than necessary between them. Standing at the end of the path leading up to the house was their oba-san accompanied by an old, silver-haired man. They seemed to be at a loss for words.

"E-Eh?! Oba-san?! Why are you back so early?" Momo asked, clearly trying to avoid a certain topic being brought up.

"Masashi accompanied me to the markets today, so I had a lot less to carry. Ah, thank you, Masashi." The elderly woman smiled up at her friend and walked through the gate he held open for her. Momo rushed forward to pluck the bags out of her hands. "Thank you, dear. I'm making your favourite tonight. It's so rare to see you two down here."

"We're really sorry, oba-san. We've just been busy."

"Busy, I'm sure," Masashi laughed as he climbed up the few stairs to the porch, giving Toshiro a large wink before heading inside.

* * *

Momo stared up at the dark ceiling with her hands folded on top of the thin blanket. She sighed and turned on her side, staring at the table were the puzzle was resting.

"_When did you get so perceptive?"_

"Baka," she muttered, turning over on her other side. "I'm not perceptive. I'm just missing a piece myself."

She leaned up and looked across the room; Toshiro was sleeping on his back, looking as serious as ever. Quietly, she removed the blanket and crawled over to his sleeping form, cringing whenever she pressed down on a loose floorboard. She hovered over him. When she looked at his face, memories from this afternoon came flooding back, making her heart hammer.

"Be quite," she hissed at her thudding heart, before looking back at Toshiro. "Hmph. Were you really about to kiss me today, Shiro-chan?"

She shifted her body so that her face was positioned right over his. Slowly, she began lower her head, wondering all the while if this was what she really wanted. She really valued their friendship, but she wanted something more; she couldn't help it. As she drew closer, she could only hope that Toshiro would forgive her selfishness. Lightly, she pressed her lips against his.

Hands whipped up; one snaking around her back and one pressing down on her head. Momo opened her eyes in alarm as Toshiro kept them in a lip-lock. He released her a moment later.

"Baka. Don't you know not to take advantage of people in their sleep?" he said with his eyes still closed.

"W-what…well, uh, I…w-wait!! You're not even asleep, Shiro-chan!!"

"It's the same concept."

"You – you were awake this whole time?"

"Did you find your missing piece?"

"Shiro-chan! You little eavesdropper! I can't believe you would do that, tricking me like that! What kind of a friend are you? You sneaky little-"

Her blooming tirade was interrupted when Toshiro hugged her to him, making sure to bury her head into his chest. "Be quite, Bed Wetter. You'll wake up oba-san, plus I won't be able to sleep."

Momo unburied her head. "Who do you think is making me say all this?" she hissed.

"Have you found your missing piece yet?"

"Stop doing that!"

"Doing what?"

"Answering my questions with your questions!"

"Well have you?"

Toshiro fell silent. His arms did not loosen their hold on her; he turned on his side, bringing her along with him. Momo laid stunned, listening to the gentle beats of his heart. His arms felt snug around her. She let out a sigh of defeat, conceding victory to him and shuffled around so that she could wrap her arms around him. They fitted perfectly.

"Yeah, I found him."

* * *

_Well I thought it was a very adorable concept, lol! I already have the next theme planned out (this is probably a first XD). Anyway, it's going to be another holiday special, so I'm sure you can guess which one! _

_So, school's horrible, work's horrible, but at least school's about to finish! Viva la vacation!_

_Please review! (it's moved to the middle right there *points down* It's big, it's green...you can't miss it!)_


	12. Thanksgiving Special

_Anonymous reviewer: Panda-Fanda - Thanks so much for the review! Lol, that's what happens when you watch a certain Shinigami Golden Cup a few hundred times over; you begin to wonder about all sorts of things!_

_Anyway, this is my entry into shirochanxmomo1220's Thanksgiving One-shot Competition for the HHFM. I hope you enjoy it and have a happy Thanksgiving!_

* * *

**Theme 12: Holiday Special – Thanksgiving  
**"_If the only prayer you said in your whole life was, "thank you", that would suffice." – Meister Eckhart_

* * *

A lone wind blew a single leaf through the deserted street. It pirouetted under the spotlight of the lamppost before settling down on the hard, cold bitumen. Outside, it was silent; however, inside one of the suburbia houses there was a flurry of activity.

"Matsumoto, not there! The fork goes on the left, the knife on the right and the plate _between _them," Toshiro stressed as he walked back into the kitchen.

"C'mon, taichou; it's Thanksgiving!" she yelled back, but nevertheless arranged the dinnerware as she was told. "Don't be so anal!"

Like the mature adult that he was, Toshiro ignored her last comment and placed the extra plates back into the cupboard. Momo was in the corner, slicing up a bunch of carrots while keeping an eye on the large turkey roasting in the oven. Rukia was standing at the other counter, trying in vain to open a can of cranberry sauce.

"OW!" she yelled for the thirteenth time, sucking on the finger that the can opener collided with. "Renji! Renji, turn off that damn Superbowl and come help me!"

"C'mon, Rukia! Look, they're all smashing into each other! It's great!"

"RENJI!"

"Fine, fine…you devil woman."

"Ah, the wonderful spirit of Thanksgiving," said Gin who now took up the whole of the couch. Not that anybody could tell, but he closed his eyes and then sunk even further into the cushions. Matsumoto came over and whapped him on the head.

"If I'm helping, you're helping," she said in a threatening tone.

He complied with his grin ever present and took to following her like a lap dog. "Misery does love company, doesn't it, Ran-chan?"

"Sure does." She pulled both his arms out and dumped a stack of plates, a handful of cutlery and a fistful of napkins upon them.

*****

Soon the table was set with beautiful and pristine dinnerware, laden down with corn cobs, snowflake potatoes, crusty bread rolls, and other delectable Thanksgiving dishes. The pumpkin pie was in the oven, ready to be eaten by the time they finished dinner. A space was left free in the centre. That was where the grand centrepiece would sit: the turkey.

It was brought out by Momo, resting on a large white plate. Its skin had turned into a mouth-watering golden-brown with a crispy texture. The sage in the stuffing could just be smelt amidst the aroma that drew the hungry shinigamis to the table. They all sat around its circular shape; Renji dove for his knife and fork.

"Right! Let's eat!"

Matsumoto held out a hand. "Hold it, big guy. It's Thanksgiving; we all have to say one thing that we're thankful for. It's traditional."

"Traditional my foot! This is the first year we've celebrated it."

"Well fine then. It's new to us, but it's a very long running human world tradition. Just think of how many Native Americans would be rolling around in their graves right now if we broke it," Matsumoto replied with a serious nod, but alight with amusement in her eyes.

"Yea, well then give everyone a minute to think about it." Renji then proceeded to close his eyes and cross his arms, looking deep in thought.

After a minute of silence, Matsumoto spoke up. "Over these past few months and years I've had many things to be thankful for, but I suppose I'm most thankful for a certain alcoholic drink."

"You and your sake, Rangiku," Renji scoffed.

"Naturally, Renji." No one saw her hand slyly brushing up against Gin's.

"I see it's my turn." Gin leant casually back on his chair, staring up at the glimmering chandelier. "Hm, what am I thankful for?"

"Hurry it up, fox-face. We don't have all night."

The chair fell back down on all fours, thumping softly upon the carpeted floor. Gin lent forward and smiled at Renji. "Now I wish that I could be thankful for being deaf so I wouldn't have to listen to you." He paused to let his clever insult sink in before continuing, ", but now that you mention it, I am very thankful for the nights. Very thankful."

His peculiar gratitude piqued Momo's interest. "Why are you so thankful for the nights?"

"I'm sure you'll find out soon, Momo-chan." He looked from Momo to Toshiro, smiling even wider. "In fact, very soon I think."

Momo looked at Toshiro, tilted her head and then shrugged, looking back. "Alright then. Rukia, it's your turn."

"What I'm thankful for…" She let out a self-conscious sigh. "I guess what I'm most thankful for is the night that I met Ichigo, be-"

"WHAT?!" Renji shouted. He banged his large fist on the table, making the plates jump. "Why are you so thankful that you met that annoying, cocky pr-"

Rukia smacked him around the head. "_Because _if you had let me FINISH you would've heard what I was going to say!" she huffed. "Anyway, I'm thankful for the night I met Ichigo because if that never happened, I never would have been sentenced to death, and through that, I never would have found out about Hisana and nii-sama's care for me.

"I had always thought that nii-sama could care much less about me. I felt like a thorn in his side, but everyday it would only pain _me_ more. But because of all the events that happened as a result of meeting Ichigo, I now know it isn't true. We get along much better now; and that has always been one of my greatest wish."

Rukia crossed her slender arms and turned around in her seat to face Renji. "And I was _going _to say that I was also thankful for that night because it helped us mend our friendship, but if you think I shouldn't be thankful for that, then fine!" She turned her back on him.

"Aurgh! Rukia!" He sighed in an exasperated fashion and threw his hands up in the air. "Whoever hears all these thanks up there, I'll be thankful if the devil woman forgives me!" For this, he received another blow to the head.

"What kind of thanks is that? If anything I'm only going to hold the grudge even longer!"

"Well, I tried; but unfortunately we're stuck with each other for life, so I have plenty of time to get you to forgive me."

"Thanks," Rukia said dryly, but nevertheless placed her back once more against the chair.

"I'm thankful that the Winter War is over and that Aizen is now in his rightful place," Toshiro said in a business like manner, turning slightly towards Momo to hear her thanks.

"Ano…what I'm most thankful for…is this." She held her hand up over her chest.

"Aw, how cute! You're thankful for your heart?" Matsumoto asked.

"No, it's not my heart. …It's this." Momo slowly gripped the collar of her gi and pulled it down just low enough so her scar was revealed. Her fingers slackened their grip, allowing the material to rise back up. "I'm most thankful for that. …Ano, I know it sound strange, but just listen, okay?"

She looked around to see if anyone would refuse her request. When no one spoke, she took in a deep breath and continued.

"For as long as I can remember being a shinigami, I know that I had admired Aizen almost to the point where I would have stopped breathing if that was his command. I'm not proud of it, but that's why I'm thankful for that day he gave me this scar. It may not have been straight away, but it not only made me realise what kind of person he was, but also what kind of person I was. When I looked back, I didn't see myself as Momo Hinamori, or even a person, but an empty shell blindly following others."

She turned and gave Toshiro a small, apologetic smile. "It also made me realise how much I had forsaken everybody who truly cared about me and tried so hard to protect me, even when I was surely delusional. It opened my eyes.

"In fact, I have many reasons to be thankful for that day, but I'll only say one more. It gave me so much courage. When I woke up, I wanted to die, and the memories kept haunting me until one day I realised that if I let them consume me, I would've lost and he would've won. So…it gave me the courage to resume my training; it gave me the courage to fight back,"

She stopped and stood up, walking over in front of Toshiro who looked taken aback by her action. Momo stared unperturbed into his eyes and gave him a dazzling smile. "And I'm thankful that now, now I have the courage to do this."

Leaning down, she kissed her childhood friend straight on the lips in front of all her friends, lightly placing her hands on both sides of his face. She pulled back just enough so she could say five words.

"Toshiro Hitsugaya, I love you."

* * *

_*** Note: **I've been getting a few people asking why Toshiro wasn't thankful for something related to Momo. It's unlikey that the people who asked me will be reading this, but this is for all you future readers. First and foremost, Toshiro is a kind of person who doesn't readily say what he truly thinks. If in this one-shot Toshiro and Momo haven't yet become Hitsuhina, then I doubt that that would openly admit to anything in front of others that could leave him vulnerable; he's that type of person. Secondly, he's saying something that he's thankful for; he's thankful for many things, he just chose to say that one. Thirdly, the ending of the Winter War and the death of Aizen does connect to Momo in a way. Now that bastard won't ever be near her again :] Hope that clears things up!_

_Well, I'm oficially out of ideas, but if one doesn't hit me soon, I've always got a Christmas and Birthday special to fall back on...not to mention New Years and Valentine...wow, there are a lot of holidays coming up!_

_On another note: I've slightly changed my entry fic for the Destiny Competition (just the lines in the poem), so if you want to see the new changes, check it out. If you haven't, yeah, check it out!!_

_Please review!_


	13. Questions, Toi

_Anonymous reviewer: Panda-Fanda - Well thank you very, very much for another review! Always a pleasure to read, and well, I can't thank you over a review reply, so I'll just thank you here, in the lovely section of author's notes xD_

_Alrighty, this idea just popped into my brain one day after exams (finally done!) and I really couldn't get it out. So, this is my new entry into shirochanxmomo1220's HHFM Destiny Competition. And well, since I probably won't be able to fit both in the summary, my Thanksgiving entry is the 12th theme, so...that's convenient! (and I'm updating this at...11:49 pm!)_

* * *

**Theme 13: Questions/Toi  
**"_A man who asks a question is a fool for five minutes; a man who does not ask a question remains a fool forever." – Chinese proverb_

* * *

"_Shiro-chan, what's on the other side of the clouds?"_

"_I don't know, Bed Wetter! Just a bunch of other clouds, I guess."_

When we were little, Momo used to ask me so many questions. It seemed as if her list was endless. She was always one-step behind me, looking fascinated by something or else just daydreaming along. Then her questions would come. They were like a dime a dozen.

"_Shiro-chan, does a rose tell the truth when you pick its petals and are left with one that says "he does"?"_

"_Baka Bed Wetter, it's just a flower. Flowers can't talk; they don't have mouths."_

They were never ending and the fact that I was the one who was always expected to answer annoyed me to no end. My answers were always blunt, direct and cold, true to what I personified. I'm sure they hurt her, maybe even more than she let on, but she would always spring back up with plenty more of her questions. Resilience has always been her strong suit.

"_Shiro-chan, were we destined to meet each other and be with each other forever and forever?"_

"_Jeeze, Bed Wetter! Don't you know destiny doesn't exists?"_

You can't imagine how much I regret those answers now. Momo, she has grown into the most precious person in my life. Can you imagine what I feel when I see her coming towards me with that brilliant smile, calling out to me? Now, she is not only someone who I want to protect, but she is also the one person who I want to make the happiest. I want to give her all the right answers to her questions, but this pride that I hold will only let me go so far. I can't seem to swallow the fear of rendering myself as vulnerable as a newborn baby.

But I have to try, because the right answers are long overdue.

*****

It was morning, but a dreary morning because of the overcast skies. The universal grey blanket placed a damper on everything, but I knew that this was the perfect day. I slipped quietly through the walkways, fingering Hyorinmaru from time to time just to make sure that he was still there. I turned a corner and headed around the fifth division barracks to a window I knew was Momo's.

I knocked very softly against the dark wooden frame. Momo was a very light sleeper and anything other than a soft tap would wake her up with a hammering heart. I heard her move clumsily around inside before the windows finally swung back, revealing my tousled-haired Momo. She took a good look at me and then yawned hugely, rubbing the sleep from her eyes.

"Shiro-chan," she mumbled. "What are you doing here so early?"

"Just hurry up and get dressed, Bed Wetter. I'm taking you somewhere today," was my instant reply.

She glared at me through bleary eyes. "Shiro-chan! My bed is very much dry, thank you! …And where are you taking me?"

"Just hurry up."

"Fine, fine."

I saw her drag herself towards her closet, stop, and then turn back around. She stuck her head out of the window, forcing me to lean back to avoid a collision. She had a triumphant smirk on her face.

"Nice try, pervert," she said before slamming her windows shut. I stared at them in speechlessness.

"You…you…argh!"

*****

"Okay, I'm ready!"

Momo threw open the windows, nearly clipping my head in the process. She clambered over the sill and dropped down to the floor, letting out a breathy laugh. Tobiume and her newly polished cross-guard shined, creating more light than the sky. I had to give Momo credit; I was waiting no more than five minutes.

"So, where are you taking me, Hitsugaya-kun?" she tried again.

"Nowhere if you keep calling me that."

"Fine then, Shiro-chan, where are we going?"

I inwardly sighed as I turned my back towards her, unsheathing Hyorinmaru. I had to admit that I walked right into that one.

"Hyorinmaru!" I called and immediately the large dragon appeared, hovering in the air straight across from us. He stationed himself as close to the railing as he could, waiting for us to climb upon his back. Half-turning, I offered my hand to Momo.

"Coming?"

She took my hand with curiosity aglow in her eyes. I made sure she was secure sitting right above where Hyorinmaru's wings protruded before having him take off into the skies. His take-off was quick. The air slammed into us, causing Momo to whimper a little and clutch the fabric of my haori all the more tighter. She wasn't used to this like I was.

We were rapidly ascending towards the blanket of clouds. I could feel Hyorinmaru steepening his climb and I freed one of my hands to pull Momo closer towards me. I didn't need to tell her to wrap her arms around my waist. She already did that.

"Hold on, Hinamori!"

We plunged into the clouds. For something that looked so soft and comfortable from the land, they really were nothing more than floating water. I made sure to keep both Momo and me dry, but I could feel her shivering from pure shock. It was difficult to breathe in here.

"Just another second!"

"_Shiro-chan, what's on the other side of the clouds?"_

As sudden as we had entered the mass of clouds, we broke free from them. The effect of sunlight was instantaneous. Momo gasped and I knew that she had opened her eyes.

We were gliding under a bright blue sky, sitting on a vessel that glistened like diamonds under the sunlight. Beneath us the clouds, now the purest of whites, stretched like an alluring bed. From here they too looked like they were solid, soft white peaks calling out to us. Temptation to jump into them lingered around us.

"Hitsu – Hitsugaya-kun…" I heard her breath. "Hitsugaya-kun…"

She couldn't finish, but she didn't have to. The wonder in her voice told me all I needed to know, and I merely asked Hyorinmaru to keep gliding forward. For being at such a high altitude, it was pleasantly warm as if we were laying in the meadows. The air was crisp, clean and fresh. Momo breathed it in appreciatively.

There was not a sound except for the soft beatings of Hyorinmaru's wings. Its steady rhythm lulled us into a trance, and time slipped away from us. It wasn't until Momo pulled herself closer to me that I snapped myself out of it. She pressed her cheek against my back.

"Thank you. Thank you, Hitsugaya-kun."

Her voice was quiet and soft, but her sincerity was conveyed in all earnestness. I could only smiled into the blue and place my hand gently over hers.

"Better hold tight. Hyorinmaru!"

Hyorinmaru slammed his tail down, soaring up towards the sun and then quite suddenly nose-diving. I wrapped my arms around his neck while Momo held me in an iron grip. We were nearly vertical and her terrified shrieks made me laugh. We shot down through the clouds, creating a feathery halo in the sky. The ground was coming towards us at an alarming pace. Just when it seemed we were about to crash into it, Hyorinmaru spread out his wings, skimming the surface of the bountiful meadow.

"Hey! Why didn't you warn me that was going to happen? I was scared half to death!" Momo exclaimed, outraged.

"A shinigami must be prepared for the unexpected," I half quoted, failing to keep that natural smile only she could draw out at bay.

A lone tree was coming into view. It stood atop a small hill, proud and majestic, showing off its vivid and thriving foliage to the whole world. Beyond it the ground was splattered in reds, yellows and whites.

With not enough room to land on the hill, Hyorinmaru landed near the base, rustling up a few loose leaves and blades of grass. After I helped Momo off, I gave him a grateful pat and he retreated back into my steel. We, she and I, stood there for just a moment, taking in the atmosphere of this place. Unlike the Seireitei, this meadow was kissed all over with sunlight. I lead Momo up over the hill, giving her a full view of the field of roses beyond.

"Hitsugaya-kun…you're…you're doing it again," she said as she stared at the breathtaking scene.

"Doing what?" I smirked at her.

"Doing…doing this." She waved her arms in front of her because the words failed to reach her.

"Making you speechless? It's not that hard."

I left her to simmer over my words. Stopping at the very edge of the field, I stooped down to pluck a large, red rose. I turned and walked back towards Momo, taking note of her reaction. It must have looked very suggestive, me coming up to her with a rose in my hands. Apparently she thought so to because I could see her fighting back a blush.

"_Shiro-chan, does a rose tell the truth when you pick its petals and are left with one that says "he does"?"_

"Here," I said, holding it out to her. She took it wordlessly. "So, are you going to ask it something?"

"W-what?"

"Are you going to ask it something?" I repeated, amused by the mixed emotions in her face. On one hand she looked a little relieved, but at the same time…disappointed? Maybe my last answer would be prefect for the both of us after all.

"Urm…ahmn…"

She fidgeted with the stem, making small exclamations of pain whenever she pricked herself. I sighed, rubbed my head and reached over to hold a petal between my fingers.

"Is Hinamori really a Bed Wetter?" I asked and then plucked the petal free. "Yes."

It worked. She was snapped out of her stupor and yanked the rose away from me, holding it close to her chest. "If that's how you want to play. Okay, does Hitsugaya-taichou actually like to be called 'Shiro-chan'?"

She began to pluck the petals, alternating between 'yes' and 'no'. Finally, she held up the very last petal aloft like a golden prize and loudly proclaimed "yes!" for the world to hear. She brought her arm back down and grinned childishly at me.

"Well then Shiro-chan, since a rose always knows the truth, Shiro-chan must like being called Shiro-chan! Shiro-chan!"

We sat down leaning against the trunk of the tree. I produced another rose. "Want to try again?"

Momo took the second rose from me and turned her head away, whispering her question to the small flower. However, I think she underestimated my hearing.

"Does Toshiro love me?"

I kept my eyes ahead as she turned back and started to pluck the petals off, showering her laps with velvety red. I was concentrating very hard on her voice when it suddenly stopped. Unable to help myself, I turned and saw that she was staring at the single petal left. Silently, she plucked it free and held it between the both of us.

"He does."

She smiled and let the petal fly free, then leaning back and staring into the sky, unaware that I heard what she intended to keep private. The tranquillity of our surroundings affected me with their calm. I moved my hand slowly across to Momo's, and then held it in mine.

"_Shiro-chan, were we destined to meet each other and be with each other forever and forever?"_

I could hear her softly gasp, but she didn't move her hand away. I ran my thumb over her skin in small circles, taking the time to fully appreciate the smoothness that she possessed. Her fingers slowly enclosed my thumb, stopping its exploration but filling it with the warmth of touch. I ran my other fingers over hers.

At the very same we both looked at each other, and from that very moment I think we both knew it would be impossible to turn away. A wind blew past, ruffling both our hairs. Having the same idea, we both reach up to fix the other's. Momo let out a laugh and I smiled at her. My hand lingered on her head, eventually sliding down to caress her cheek. She looked at me through heavy lashes, wondering, and hoping.

I leaned in, just a little to test her reaction. She didn't move back or away, only moved her hand tentatively to rest against my upper arm. Warmth imbued me, encouraging me to go further. I yielded and leant in a little more; she copied my actions. Slowly, we moved close towards each other. Our hands were now preventing the other's escape, holding, caressing and encircling each other.

Our noses were touching and our eyes were closed, taking in the scent of the moment. Momo's slow breaths gently danced upon my skin.

"Toshiro…"

I silenced her with my lips. Momo; she tasted of sweet peaches, the sweetest of an autumn's harvest. From this moment on I knew I would never be free from this addictive taste. Almost instinctively, I pressed her close to me, pulling at the chord which held up her bun and tangling her hair with my hand. It didn't seem as if she minded, because she too pressed herself hungrily against me.

We broke apart and I instantly began to plant a trail of butterfly kisses down to the crook of her neck. She pressed her head onto mine and we rolled over until we were lying on our sides, still in our embrace. And as the winds blew the perfume of a thousand roses to surround us, we laid together not as Toshiro and Momo, but simply as one complete entity.

Forever and forever.

* * *

_Words: 2285_

_Well...how was it? Lol, I'll stick with this one for my entry, no matter which one is more well-received. Besides, this one has more Hitsuhina! Anyway, I hope you all enjoyed my now current entry into the competition._

_Please review!_


	14. Birthday Special, Toshiro Hitsugaya

_-laugh- Better late then never!_

* * *

**Theme 14: Birthday Special – Toshiro Hitsugaya  
**"_Happy Birthday, Shiro-chan!"_

* * *

"Oh, Hitsugaya-kun, I'll get that for you!"

Leaning over the desk, Momo grabbed the pile of paperwork away from Toshiro who already had a hand up, poised to write. He set his brush back, unused, in its inkwell and rested his cheek on his hand.

"Hinamori, why are you taking my paperwork? Do you have so little that you must take mine?"

"Oh, don't complain, Hitsugaya-kun." Momo steadied the stack of papers against her chest. Using her free hand she gathered all the stray sheets. "Neither of us wants to do paperwork, but did you forget that tomorrow is your birthday?"

"Of course not, but like I said," His eyes moved to the side, seemingly uncaring, "birthdays don't matter to those who come from Rukongai."

Momo straightened up and laughed, the papers secure in her arms. "You're silly, Shiro-chan! Birthdays matter as long as you have someone remember it, and I do."

She walked out of his room, but before she closed the door completely, she turned around. "I'm going to make it snow for you!"

The door clicked shut, leaving Toshiro to stare at the blank stretch of brown wood. Her last words echoed in his mind and he fingered Hyorinmaru.

"But I can already make it snow."

*****

It had barely been an hour since Momo's visit, but Toshiro was already restless by a lack of purpose. How else was he suppose to whittle away the time that seemed to drag on for eternity? He could scarcely remember a moment in which he had absolutely nothing to do.

Finally, his boredom broke him. The chair was sent scraping back as Toshiro rose and walked out of his office to find Momo and demand his paperwork back.

"Oi, Hinamori!" When he received no reply, he rapped again, harder. "Hinamori!"

The door opened just enough for Momo's eyes to blink at him. "What do you want, Hitsugaya-kun?"

"My paperwork."

"_What?_" Her voice was beyond incredulous and the door opened wider, revealing her gaping face. "You _want _to do paperwork? On the day before your birthday?"

Toshiro crossed his arms. "You would rather me do paperwork _on _my birthday?"

"No. You're not doing it tomorrow either," she replied stubbornly, coming out and snapping the door shut behind her.

"Then give me my paperwork back so I can at least get something done today."

"I can't."

"You can't?"

"I can't."

His eyebrows knitted together. "And what do you mean by that? Are you telling me that you've taken care of all the paperwork already?"

"Well…I guess you could say that. Yeah! I've taken care of it all!" Laughing, she shoved him away from her door. "Just hurry up and get some sleep. That way I can give you my present."

*****

Sunlight filtered into the small, modest room, breaking away at the darkness accumulated through the night. The rays hit Toshiro on the eyes, and he sat up groggily. A tiny yawn escaped through his lips and he began to rub the sleep from his eyes. When he opened them, he blinked, and then rubbed them harder to confirm if he was seeing things.

He wasn't.

Hanging from his ceiling, decorating his entire room, were paper snowflakes. The lengths of the thin, white string were varied, freezing the paper cut-outs in a genuine snowfall. Silver glitter had been carefully applied, so that the flakes sparkled, sending out their own little magnificent light. Even though there was no draft, they spun slowly around; one moment to the right, and the next to the left.

She was right.

She did make it snow for him.

For a minute, Toshiro was completely entranced by his private winter wonderland. Before he knew it, a smile was on his face. It wasn't until he forced himself to blink that he noticed a folded white card resting on his table.

_Happy Birthday, Hitsugaya-kun!_

_You see, birthdays give people the chance to make each other happy. I bet you're smiling right now! As long as I know you, Hitsugaya-kun, your birthday will always have meaning to me. That's why I took the time to make every snowflake unique, just like real ones. Even you can't look at them and still say that your birthday has no meaning._

_Well, even if you do, you'll never convince me!_

_Love you always,_

_Momo_

*****

"Oi, Hinamori, wake up."

She batted his hand away, turning her head on its other side. For someone who was slumped over on her desk, sleeping, she looked strangely content. Splayed across her desk was the evidence of her work: scissors, glitter and jaggedly cut paper, some as small as confetti. Toshiro tried again.

"C'mon, Hinamori."

Abruptly, she pushed herself away from the desk, causing Toshiro to jump out of his skin. She stretched out and then looked at him, rubbing away at her eyes. "What do you want, Hitsugaya-kun? I'm tired."

"I just wanted to say thank you, Hinamori."

"Eh?" She yawned again before it hit her. "Oh! You're very welcome, Shiro-chan! I knew you'd like it! Luckily, your paperwork wasn't hard to cut th-"

"WHAT?!"

Nervously laughing, Momo rose up and back away towards the door. "Did I just say that?"

"I don't know," Toshiro gritted through his teeth. "Would you mind repeating it?"

"Er…well…I hope those resumes on the new recruits weren't that important!"

"H-hey! Get back here, Hinamori!"

With an impish laugh, Momo leapt onto the rooftops, starting up an impromptu chase. "C'mon, Shiro-chan! It's your birthday! Let loose! Who else would have the guts to do something like this to you?"

Toshiro couldn't help but smile as he felt all of his previous annoyance being blown away like the snowflakes. True, no one other than her would do this to him…and oddly enough, it was refreshing.

"You better watch out, Hinamori! You can't outrun a taichou!"

* * *

_Actually, the whole snowflake thing - it was something I wanted to do for my sister. I spent ages cutting all the snowflakes out, but in the end it didn't work out. For some reason she was a bit touchy a few days before Chrsitmas, and I didn't find it very tactful to sneak into her room which she is very protective of. Oh well._

_Please review! (And if you spot a mistake or typo, please tell me)._


	15. Choice, Sentaku

_*** **Anonymous reviewer: _Fanda-Panda _- First of all, I apologise for not thanking you for your other review in my previous chapter. I hope you wern't offended - I really appreciate all of the support you've given me. But moving on, I'm glad you enjoyed the last chapter! -laugh- Having Momo make the snowflakes out of paperwork just shows off her cheeky side. And, no, I meant rapped and not tapped, though both do make sense. Thanks for keeping an eye out for my work. If there's ever anything else like that, feel free to tell me!_

_**** **After a multitude of happy one-shots, Peachy decided to write some angst! ...At least, I think this can be considered angst... And I might do a very late (think mid-year) Christmas, New Years special._

**

* * *

**

**Theme 15: Choice/Sentaku  
**"_If you choose not to decide, you still have made a choice." – Neil Peart_

* * *

If life was described as movement, then she was barely hanging onto it. She was more machine than human – wires through her veins, tubes down her throat – and yet all that human fragility remained. One overlooked movement, a single malfunction, and the machine would stop – her breathing along with it.

"How is she?" I asked through barely parted lips, afraid that unnecessary words or tones would emerge to betray me.

"The same as yesterday."

And the same as the day before that, and that, and for every single goddamn day of the past month. An insufferable thirty-one days. Every _single_ day brought the same answer. She was doing no better and she was doing no worse. That wasn't a silver lining; was there much worse?

"Her condition?"

"Stable."

Nope, it wasn't there either, the silver lining. She'd been stable for the past fortnight, and as I've been told fourteen – no, fifteen – times, she would continue to remain in that state. Ironic, how she was on a precipice, waiting to be thrown into complete stability.

"Hitsugaya-taichou, Hinamori-fukutaichou has suffered through immense trauma on a physical, mental and emotional level. Not only that, but her Soul Sleep has been permanently damaged–"

"She'll still have her powers."

Her eyes enveloped mine, pacifying and soft, asking me not to throw myself into denial. Or rather, further into that wonderful self-indulgence. The reply to my stubbornly spat-out statement – we both knew the answer. No amount of renunciations could change that.

"If she should wake up–"

"No," I interrupted with feverish urgency. "She's going to wake up."

This time, Unohana-taichou did not silently convince me otherwise.

"There is no certainty that she will. I'm afraid that's the truth, Hitsugaya-taichou, no matter how much you wish it otherwise."

The sentiment was there, masked to near perfection by her steady voice. It pained her to see Hinamori lying lifelessly on the sterile white bed, but it was a few drops at most, compared to the ocean I was struggling to stay afloat in. She continued without breaking; I gave her credit for that.

"If she should wake up, she'll never be the same again. The wound she received from Aizen fractured several vertebrae. At most, she will regain eighty percent of her mobility. And without her Soul Sleep–"

"I know."

I glared at the tiled floor, at the sheen it gained from the warm summer light filtering in. Unohana-taichou was kind. She allowed me a moment to sort through my thoughts, no matter how unviable that was. I was a complete and utter mess, crumbling down along with centuries of locks and doors.

"She will be of no use to the Gotei 13. And for someone who was once so strong and independent, she will have to rely on others for even the simplest of tasks. With her movements restricted, powers diminished and senses slowed, there is nothing for her but constant struggle and pain. Her only form of release will be death."

"Hinamori wouldn't…she wouldn't…she'd find a way. She'd find a way!" I insisted. My knuckles turned pallid from the intensity of my clench.

After a pregnant pause, I received a piteous look from the fourth division taichou. She turned, saying her final words with her back towards me, perhaps to give me the privacy to react in any way I wanted to. "Her future rests with you. You are, after all, the one closest to her. All I ask is that you remember our discussion and make sure that you won't come to regret your decision."

The door slid to a gentle _click_, but my eyes remained on the painted wood, staring long and hard. The machinery whirled quietly, but to my ears the sounds were loud and unbearable. _Whoosh _– that was the sound of her breathing. _Drip, drop _– that was the sound of her blood. _Beep, beep_ – that was the sound of her heart. Uniformed sounds. Machine sounds.

Would she be anything more if she woke up?

Would her singing voice be reduced to a monotonous drone? Would her face ever light up in happiness, or even darken in anger? Would one blink mean 'yes' and two mean 'no'?

_No_, my heart whispered.

My heart – a devil in angel's clothing. My refusal to even consider the likely possibility that _if _Hinamori woke up, her life would be exactly as Unohana-taichou said it would be. _I _did not want things to turn out that way because _I _wanted things to return to the way they were. _I _wanted Hinamori to wake so that she could grace _me _with her smile, to tackle _me _from behind, to call _me _that wonderfully annoying pet-name.

But most of all, _I _wanted her to rescue _me _from the guilt – the overwhelming guilt of breaking my promise to her. For not protecting her when she most needed me.

And so it was all about me; nothing about her.

When I felt that I could take a step without succumbing to the floor, I walked over to her, Hinamori, my best and longest friend. My fingers trembled as they touched upon her ashen face, brushing loose strands away from her sunken eyes.

My composure was quickly deteriorating. I let a few tears fall.

If I could see her smile, to hear her voice, to have her infect everybody again with her cheerful disposition, even if they weren't directed at me…well, I wouldn't be happy entirely. But if I was facing pain either way, bittersweet was my choice. At least then she would be happy.

I'd never given much thought to the way our two worlds worked – the reincarnation of souls to maintain the delicate balance. Now, it seemed that it will become a small relief to me. Some day, we could meet again, in times where hardships like this will be nonexistent.

Gently – as Hinamori was the porcelain doll – I freed her from the bindings of metal and wires. The machines protested, but I silenced them. She would no longer have any need for them. I left just one – a framework of silver that sat on her head like a crown. A single chord extended from it, leading to a small outlet that kept her alive on the barest minimum.

Now, she was simply resting, not on a struggle to keep herself here. She was sleeping in a room filled with light only from the sun. She was no longer a machine. Just Hinamori – Momo Hinamori.

I placed one hand to cover hers, and the other on the small plug. _Smile_, I told myself. And I gave it to her.

"Goodbye, Momo."

* * *

_So, how was the angst? Or maybe non-angst? Please review :]_


	16. Christmas Special

Hey there! I'm finally back and ready to start updating my collection of (neglected) one-shots! Yes, I used to be _Snowy Peach Tsubasa _but I decided to change it. After being away for so long, I thought a change was in order. But who knows? I might change it back one day :) After all, it was my first penname and I still attached to it.

Anyway, since Christmas is just around the corner, I thought I'd do a quick little paradoy of the well-known carol "The Twelve Days of Chrsitmas". I suppose it's not called the silly season for nothing, haha xD I hope all you readers still find my writing enjoyable to read!

* * *

**Theme 16: Christmas Special – The Twelve Days of Christmas  
**_"Open your presents at Christmas time but be thankful year round for the gifts you receive." ~Lorinda Ruth Lowen_

* * *

On the first day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
A scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the second day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the third day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Three bloody traitors,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the fourth day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Four mod-souls,  
Three bloody traitors,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the fifth day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Five zan-paku-tous (sto-o-o-o-len),  
Four mod-souls,  
Three bloody traitors,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the sixth day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Six Shunshunrikkas,  
Five zan-paku-tous (sto-o-o-o-len),  
Four mod-souls,  
Three bloody traitors,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the seventh day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Seven wayward Vizards,  
Six Shunshunrikkas,  
Five zan-paku-tous (sto-o-o-o-len),  
Four mod-souls,  
Three bloody traitors,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the eighth day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Eight bankai callings,  
Seven wayward Vizards,  
Six Shunshunrikkas,  
Five zan-paku-tous (sto-o-o-o-len),  
Four mod-souls,  
Three bloody traitors,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the ninth day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Nine lethal hollows,  
Eight bankai callings,  
Seven wayward Vizards,  
Six Shunshunrikkas,  
Five zan-paku-tous (sto-o-o-o-len),  
Four mod-souls,  
Three bloody traitors,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the tenth day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Ten pale Espadas,  
Nine lethal hollows,  
Eight bankai callings,  
Seven wayward Vizards,  
Six Shunshunrikkas,  
Five zan-paku-tous (sto-o-o-o-len),  
Four mod-souls,  
Three bloody traitors,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the eleventh day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Eleven new Ryokas,  
Ten pale Espadas,  
Nine lethal hollows,  
Eight bankai callings,  
Seven wayward Vizards,  
Six Shunshunrikkas,  
Five zan-paku-tous (sto-o-o-o-len),  
Four mod-souls,  
Three bloody traitors,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

On the twelfth day of Christmas my Shinigami gave to me,  
Twelve drunken Captains,  
Eleven new Ryokas,  
Ten pale Espadas,  
Nine lethal hollows,  
Eight bankai callings,  
Seven wayward Vizards,  
Six Shunshunrikkas,  
Five zan-paku-tous (sto-o-o-o-len),  
Four mod-souls,  
Three bloody traitors,  
Two wartime orders,  
And a scarf that was stolen from Kuchiki

"Hinamori…I love you and all, and as it is Christmas I know I should be thinking about the kind and wonderful gesture of receiving this…_gift_…but this is insane!"

Momo's eyes followed the direction of Toshiro's finger, leading them into room from which cacophonies erupted. Everything from the turkey stuffing to hollow's blood reminiscent of green phlegm was splattered on every available surface, while the inhabitants were either: drunk (Captains), running amok (Vizards and mod-souls), having a free-for-all (Espadas, hollows and bloody traitors) or passed out from the shock of it all (most of the Ryokas). Captain Kuchiki's scarf hung from the ceiling like a dainty strand of tinsel.

She was unfazed.

"You know, Hitsugaya-kun, you really should be thinking about my kind and wonderful gesture," she retorted, hands becoming akimbo. "Do you have any idea how long it took me to get everyone in there? Not to mention how much planning went into stealing those zanpakutous and smuggling all those Ryokas?"

"Alright…I can see how much thought and effort you've put into this–"

"Thank you, Hitsugaya-kun."

"And now that the initial shock of receiving such a gift has worn off, I can fully appreciate how glittery those Shunshunrikkas are; prefect, really, for a holiday such as Christmas–"

"Aw, now you're making me blush!"

"But _that!_" – once again Toshiro's finger jabbed into the room, this time targeting the Head Captain who, in his drunken state, was belting out tunes into an empty bottle of hard liquor (with no doubts as to where the contents disappeared into), complete with pelvic thrusts the King himself would envy – "that is going to scar me for life!"

* * *

I hope you enjoyed my Bleach version of The Twelve Days of Chrsitmas :)

BTW, for anyone who is interested, I've put up the first chapter of my Mulan spin-off fanfiction. It's called _Dragon Lock _- I hope you will enjoy my new and original plotline. Thank you :)


	17. Wish, Negai

Hey everybody! I hope you all had a great Christmas and a happy new year! This next one-shot is formatted a little differently from my previous one-shots. It's like a slice taken from an AU fanfiction that doesn't exist, but I enjoyed writing this very much. Hope you like it too!

* * *

**Theme 17: Wish/Negai**  
_"Some people want it to happen, some wish it would happen, others make it happen" – Michael Jordan_

* * *

"Aw man! All the computers are totally booked out! What am I supposed to do now?"

Summer had just arrived in Karakura town and along with its warm rays and pleasant days – where one just wanted to flop down upon the grass without a care in the world – came the end of year exams. Realising that their time was rather limited, most of the seniors were scrambling around trying to complete assignments due a month or two ago.

"This is your own fault, Abarai," replied Toshiro, apathetic to his taller and much less organised friend. "Maybe if you didn't decide to go late-night clubbing every second day, you'd have everything done by now. Or something done by now…"

"Yeah, well…this must be a sign! Yeah, all the computers are taken 'cause kami-sama decided that I don't need to finish that essay for Kurotsuchi-sensei!"

"Ha, or maybe he wanted you to be held back a year," chortled Ichigo. "I mean, are you serious, Renji? You're going to get slaughtered if you don't finish that essay by today!"

"Argh, c'mon you guys, help me out here!"

Toshiro sighed and lobbed his backpack over to Ichigo.

"Fine. Find a table and I'll go get you some books."

"Hey, Toshiro! Try looking in the kiddie section first; we don't want to melt Renji's brain before the exams!"

"Wouldn't make much difference anyway."

"You two are A-grade bastards, you know that!"

Breaking away from the noisy computer lab, Toshiro walked through the vast corridors of the library, heading towards the science section. It was much quieter and more archaic than the social hub of the library's atrium with its computers, sofas and fictional works sector. Massive tomes with frayed pages and peeling titles were stuffed into shelves three times as high as Toshiro. Sunlight streaming through the windows highlighted the dust swirling though the air.

Toshiro was familiar with this section as if it was his own house. The world of science, problems and explanations fascinated him to lofty degrees. He slowed his pace, as it wasn't because of the sunlight that he felt at ease.

Besides, complain as he may, Renji was in no hurry to finish that essay.

Tucked away at the far end of the room was the biochemistry section, and Toshiro knew that the book he wanted would be waiting for him on the shelf three up from the bottom and two from the right. As he turned the sun caught him in the eye, causing Toshiro to wince and grope for the correct shelf. He blinked and rubbed the remains of the bight light from his eyes.

As he slid _Biochemistry: Reactions of the Living _out of its dusty shelf, a flicker of movement caught the corner of his eye. He turned, bringing up a hand to his forehead to shield his eyes as he was now facing the window.

Sitting on the cushioned window seat, back against the wall, legs bent at a forty-five degree angle so that the tips of her shoes touched the other end, was a girl. Bathed in the sunlight, her black hair melted into a soft brown and her skin resembled porcelain – pale and smooth. Only her fingers were moving, working folds into a small square of paper.

With the book tucked under an arm, Toshiro walked back out. It was not in his nature to loiter around quiet areas when others were present; these places were meant for solitary. As he navigated his way back to the atrium, he could not stop thinking that the girl – whom he had only glimpsed a side-profile of – looked somewhat familiar.

* * *

"What are we doing back here again?" complained Renji as the stared at the tall glass building that stretched up above him. "Didn't I finish that essay yesterday?"

"You knucklehead," Ichigo replied, slamming his fist down upon Renji's head. "The exams start in two weeks, so just sit down, shut up and start studying as if your future depended on it. Oh wait-a-minute…your future does depend on it!"

"Asshole. Well I've got some news for you! After high school, I'm heading straight for national soccer team, and in ten years time, I'll be laughing at you from my helicopter while you're stuck in a medical office all day surrounded by pigs and crazy cows!"

"…Do you want to ask, Toshiro, or should I?"

"Let's just go."

Toshiro, Ichigo and Renji managed to book a study room before the waves of other conscientious and stressed seniors arrived. Several hours crept past with nothing uneventful occurring other than the fact that Renji was studying for once. It wasn't until midday when they discovered that he had in fact been playing minesweeper for the past four hours instead of completing an interactive exam.

As an argument brewed up between Ichigo and Renji, Toshiro left the room for his peace of mind and a lunch break. Except he wasn't feeling particularly hungry, and with nothing else to do he decided to head back to the section he'd frequented yesterday.

_I'm only having a look…and it's a free world…I could be bringing back a book for Abarai or Kurosaki after all…_ he reasoned with himself as he walked towards the back of the room.

Stopping just short of the wall, hidden by the side of the bookshelf, Toshiro leaned his head forward until he could see down the end of the passageway.

Again, she was there, sitting as she was yesterday. Her small, nimble fingers were folding, pressing and turning another piece of paper until with a final tug, what was left in her hands was a small patterned crane. A smile bloomed on her face as she stared at the small bird resting on her palms before tucking it under her knees and starting anew.

Day after day Toshiro came, looking past the bookshelf to see if she was there. It didn't matter what time he came, or what day, she was always there, sitting and folding as she was the day before. Everyday he would assuage his guilt of spying with the justification that he never lingered, not for long. Watching her brought a feeling of serenity, but it also piqued his curiosity.

Why was it that her smile grew sadder with each passing day?

* * *

It was Sunday, the last day before the start of the three gruelling weeks of end-of-year exams. The first exam was English Continuers, and the imminent approach of their first exam caused even Renji to knuckle down.

"Is this right?" Renji asked, pushing over a short story he had just completed.

"The past tense of 'think' is 'thought', not 'thunk'" replied Toshiro, circling the error in bright red. "And this sentence is meant to be 'she added cream to her coffee' not 'she cremated her coffee'. To cremate means to burn a corpse, not to add cream to something–"

"Stop already!"

"You asked."

"'She cremated her coffee'? What next Renji, is she going to perform a graveyard ritual to send the remains to caffeine heaven?" Ichigo doubled up onto the table, wheezing from laughing so hard. "And then maybe one day it'll get reincarnated as the cappuccino it always wanted to be!"

"Kurosaki, your sentence says 'When I visit my sister, I sleep with her house."

"Brilliant English, isn't it?"

"You used the wrong preposition. It's 'sleep _at _her house'. To sleep _with_ something means to have sex with it."

The room exploded with Renji's laughter and even Toshiro couldn't keep a small smile from forming.

"I never knew you rolled that way, Ichigo!" Renji hollered between laughs. "If you want, I can introduce you to a very nice villa. She's a bit temperamental because of renovations, but she's only twenty minutes away!"

"Stuff you, you douchebag!"

When pencils instead of insults were flying through the air, Toshiro took it as his cue to leave the battlefield. Before he could close the door behind him, he heard Renji shout out.

"Yo, if you're going out, mind bringing me back a couple of books on biochem? Biggest one you can find."

Toshiro turned, raising a bemused eyebrow.

"You're actually going to read it?"

"Well, I haven't thought that far though yet, but it'd be something good to chuck at Ichigo, that's for sure!"

* * *

As Toshiro walked through the library, he was thanking Renji for an excuse to take his feet down that well-travelled path. He wondered if she studied English Continuers as well.

Today, he intended to walk straight up and talk to her. But what would he say? Conversation wasn't his forte in the least, but Toshiro was feeling a spark of impulse and decided to just wing it. To say that he was irritated with himself was an understatement. For Pete's sake, he'd been lingering around the place for two weeks!

To his surprise and relief, the girl wasn't sitting down this time. Instead she was gazing up at the shelves, running her fingers along the spiles to keep track of their titles. This was something he could work with.

"Looking for something?" he asked, standing one shelf away from her and fingering a random book.

The girl jumped, looked around her, and seeing as they were the only ones there, came to the conclusion that he was talking to her. She pressed her palm against a book that was halfway off the shelf, sliding it back in place.

"Not anymore."

She smiled and went back to the window seat, taking care not to sit on the paper cranes scattered over the cushions. After finding a large book that was sure to satisfy Renji, Toshiro walked over and sat down on the ground, back against the shelves, head near her shoes. He nodded his head toward her hands.

"What are you folding all those for?"

"A wish. You've heard of the legend, right? If you fold a thousand cranes your wish will come true."

"Oh, right…"

As he lived in the world of science, Toshiro preferred facts and evidence over fairytales and wishful assumptions. All that those achieved were giving people false hope, and there were far fewer things more hurtful than that.

"You don't have to believe in it, but it feels nice to believe in something like that," she pointed out as if she had read his mind. "You're studying biochemistry?"

"Yeah, and you?"

"Oh, I've studied it."

"Does that mean you were accelerated into Year Twelve biochemistry last year?" Toshiro questioned, noting that she was wearing the current year's senior jacket. "That's pretty impressive."

"No, no, I didn't mean that. Well…I suppose, seeing as how school officially ended two weeks ago for seniors, I'm no longer studying any of my subjects."

"That's true."

A silence descended upon them, but as it was more peaceful than awkward, Toshiro found himself scowling when his phone rang. With a flick of his wrist, he opened his phone and glanced at the caller ID before pressing the flashing green button.

"What do you want, Abarai?" he asked, running a hand through his hair.

"What do I want?" Renji echoed. "I want that biochem book! Old carrot top here's becoming a real pain!"

"I'm younger than you, you disintegrating old geezer! Look, you're already losing your memory!"

"That's redundant, Kurosaki," Toshiro muttered.

"Well anyway, hurry back. We're grabbing a bite to eat in five. I'm going to die if I stay in this place any longer. Later!"

The other end turned dead before Toshiro could find a chance to reply. Seeing no other choice, he tucked his phone back into his pockets and stood up, dusting off his pants.

"I suppose you're going now?" the girl whispered, looking at the paper in her hands.

"Yeah. Actually, I haven't eaten since this morning." Toshiro picked up his book, wondering if Renji would still want it. After considering the fact that he was talking about Renji, he stuffed it back into the bookshelf and turned back towards her. "Do you have an exam tomorrow?"

"No…I don't have any exams for a while, but…" she stopped and bit the inside of her lip before continuing. "I'll be up here tomorrow."

"Great, I'll come see you after my exam."

Her fingers fumbled with the next fold and she looked at him as if he gave her a pleasant surprise. She smiled at him.

"Okay."

Toshiro slung his bag over one shoulder and was about to turn out from the passage when she called out to him.

"Wait. You still haven't told me your name."

"Oh, right." Toshiro let out an embarrassed laugh. "I never got around to that. It's Hitsugaya Toshiro."

"It's nice to finally know that. I'm Hinamori Momo."

* * *

"I seriously cannot wait until exams are over!"

Toshiro let his bag slide onto the carpet before imitating the movement, plopping himself down into his usual corner. Momo giggled at manner in which he let his limbs fall and threw him a cushion which he placed behind his head after giving it a solid punch.

"The exam period is over tomorrow. I'm sure you can wait just a little longer!" Momo teased.

"Yeah, well trust me to choose the subject with the exam on the very last day," Toshiro grumbled in reply. "I don't feel as if I can study anymore."

"Then don't. I bet you don't really have to anyway; you know it all."

"I wish I could think like that. Every time I think I can just relax because I know it all, my mind tells me I could fail because I didn't take that chance to study. It's like…argh, I don't know! I don't know how to explain it…"

Toshiro let out a frustrated sigh and buried his head between his legs. Momo leaned forward until her head was resting on her knees, closer now but still letting him keep his breathing space.

"I know you, Hitsugaya-san. If you think too hard you won't be able to say it. Don't think about it. Just say whatever's on your mind."

"…It feels like I've been programmed to study, that I can't relax until _everything_ is over. It's strange…just when you're finally near the end, all you feel like doing is giving up, you know? Because that would make it end so much more quickly…even though that's the last thing you want to do."

He stopped, surprised at how much he was able to say, but didn't hear a response from Momo, which suited him just fine. It was such a relief that he was able to tell someone about all the thoughts that were plaguing his mind. That's all he wanted; someone to listen so that he wasn't bottling up all those troubles. It was a while before she spoke.

"I think we all feel like giving up not because it would instantly make everything end, but because after we reach the end on our own two feet, the feeling is that much better because you know you didn't give up, even though the temptation was right there." Momo leaned back, head tilted up towards the sky. "Because once that happens you feel as if you're the happiest person in the world, you know?"

"I've…never thought about it that way before. And I think I like your explanation more. Thank you, Hinamori-san."

Momo returned her gaze back at Toshiro, stuck her tongue out at him and chucked a cushion at him, catching him on the head.

"Didn't I already say to just call me Hinamori?"

"That would make you a hypocrite, wouldn't it?" countered Toshiro, flinging back the cushion. "Always insisting on calling me Hitsugaya-san."

"W-well that's different! It would be uh…inappropriate for a young lady to be so uncouth," Momo said, tossing her nose up with an air of a spoilt princess.

"So it's my job to be the feral young man?"

Their secret meeting place became filled with the sound of laughter as they both laughed in earnest. It was a wonderful tonic that drove away all concern.

"Fine," Toshiro choked out after his bout of laughter. "I'll call you Hinamori if you call me Hitsugaya, or is that too uncouth for your tastes?"

"Agreed, Hitsugaya-_kun._"

Toshiro rolled his eyes while Momo seemed very proud at her cheek. They resumed their normal banter until something clicked into Toshiro's mind. It was very strange that he only noticed it now.

"Hinamori, where are all your cranes?" he asked, lifting himself a few inches to see if they were hiding under her knees. "Did you stop folding them?"

"Yeah, I did. Actually, I haven't been folding them since that Sunday."

"Ah, so you finished on that day, right? You've folded a thousand now."

"No, not a thousand. I've folded nine hundred and ninety-nine."

"What?" Toshiro straightened up and pointed an accusing finger towards Momo. "Weren't you the one just telling me not to give up? Why did you just stop when you're so close?"

"You're silly, Hitsugaya-kun," she answered, flicking his head back. "I didn't give up. I just didn't need to fold that last one anymore."

"Because you ran out of paper?"

"No, because I didn't need to."

"What kind of reason is that?" he muttered, folding his arms back and leaning against the shelf. "I don't believe it. Even if you say you don't need to, you're so close already. If it was me, I would have been in a hurry to fold that last one."

"If you keep going on, I'm going to start thinking that you're the one who's folding them and not me." Momo shook her head and pressed her head against the sun-kissed wall. "I already told you that I don't feel as if I need to, but if it really bothers you _that_ much that you might forget everything at the exam tomorrow, I'll fold it."

"You should. At the very least it'll give you bragging rights…and I'd like to see you complete it. You deserve your wish to come true."

"I thought you didn't believe in fairytales like that."

"Well, what can I say? You're a bad influence!"

Momo shook her head once more, but then smiled at Toshiro.

"It's a promise then. I'll finish that last crane tomorrow."

"You'll still be up here when my exam's finished, right? I'll meet you up here as usual?"

"You better run. I'm going home at sunset tomorrow. My grandparents are probably wondering what I'm still doing in this stuffy old library!"

"You're not leaving until I see that last crane of yours, Hinamori."

"I promise you'll see that last crane, Hitsugaya-kun. It's because of you that I'm folding it."

* * *

"Time's up. Please put down your pencils and close your booklets."

Even though it was against the rules, the students in the exam room could not help but let out a cheer for the sentence that brought them their salvation. The euphoria of the next three entire months of partying, lazing around and freedom reached even the teachers. Toshiro caught a grimace from Kurotsuchi-sensei, the closet facial expression to a smile he'd ever seen.

Anyone standing outside the doors would have been overwhelmed and trampled by the hoard of eager students heading for the city centre or else for home to burn their exercise books. Toshiro ran for the library, inhaling the air that seemed to be scented with a sweet perfume – it was the scent of freedom.

"Aren't your exams over, Hitsugaya-kun?" the librarian called out as he rushed passed the reception desk. She had become familiar with him due to his daily visits for the past five weeks. "Go out and enjoy yourself already!"

"I am!"

Filled with adrenaline, Toshiro took the stairs two at a time and dashed down the halls and around the corners. He couldn't wait to see Momo, tease her about their promise and maybe convince her to celebrate with him in town. Due to his rush, he found himself colliding into someone coming from the opposite direction. Both were sent to the ground, books flying from the latter's arms.

"Sorry," Toshiro said as he scrambled to help pick up the books. The last one he placed on the pile was an old textbook titled _Beginner's Guide to Biochemistry. _The book was taken from his hands a moment later.

"Thanks for the help," replied the red-headed girl before walking away with book-laden arms.

However, instead of walking away like the girl, Toshiro was frozen in place by a memory that was resurfacing from the inner depths of his mind – an incident exactly like this one that took place in the early weeks of the first semester.

-

The new seniors were just three weeks into their final year of high school and were already facing multiple tests and assignments. Toshiro had an oral, an in-class essay, three tests and one assignment due next week, but it didn't faze him as much as it would others. He rounded a corner, thinking about what to study that night, when he bumped into someone. He heard a small exclamation of pain.

"Sorry," he said, picking up the book that had dropped nearest to him. "I'll get these for you."

But there was only one other book left. As he reached forward to grab it, the person he had bumped into did the exact same thing, causing both their hands to touch. The other hand made a quick retreat. Toshiro picked up the book and looked at the cover. It was a copy of _Beginner's Guide to Biochemistry._

"Beginner's Guide to Biochemistry," he read, not noticing that he was smiling as he turned to read the summary on the back. "This is a really good starting book. Professor Kiwa really knows how to explain cell metabolism, and the chapter on protein synthesis is excellent."

Realising that he had babbled far too much than his personality usually tolerated, he thrust the book back to the other person, all while berating himself. He turned to leave but was held back by a soft voice.

"Um…t-thank you for helping me. I was thinking about quitting biochemistry, but I think I'll have a look at this book before I do."

No one ever really talked to him like that after bumping into him. Most of the time rushed "sorry"s were exchanged. Surprised, Toshiro looked at the girl thanking him. Her black hair framed her face which carried two warm, brown eyes. She looked fragile with her arms wrapped around her books, hugging them to her chest. She was giving him a hesitant, but sincere smile.

"Sure, no problem. See you later."

-

"Hinamori!"

Toshiro shouted her name as he rounded the shelf, not expecting to see an empty window seat. Crestfallen, he realised that she must have already gone home. Perhaps he had taken too long in getting here. The exams do tend to start later than expected.

"Hey, Hinamori, you were meant to wait for me, remember?" he grumbled to no one in particular as he walked towards the window. "What about the…"

He had reached the window and found himself stopped by the very item he was thinking of. Perched in the centre of the seat was a small folded crane. Backgrounded by the glowing horizon, it seemed to come alive, looking majestic with its wings spread out far. He picked it up and saw two words; one written on each wing:

_Thank you_

As he stared at those words, he felt as if Momo's voice was whispering them to him from a faraway place; a place he knew he could never reach. With his throat contracting, he rushed back to Karakura High School. Only the office secretaries and a few teachers were left, but the school was still open for a while longer. Toshiro rushed down the empty corridors, not knowing why he was here of all places.

"She took biochemistry, but she wasn't in my class," he gasped as he continued his rapid pace through the building. "The only other homeroom that took biochemistry was–"

The labelled door of class 12-C stood in front of him. With shaking fingers, Toshiro slid back the door and walked into the classroom. The setting sun stretched the shadows along the wall and drenched the room in a melancholy light. On one of the desks there was a small vase filled with white chrysanthemums. He walked over and ran a hand across the name he knew would be there.

"Hitsugaya-san?"

Toshiro turned around, seeing the school nurse, Unohana-sensei, walking towards him. In her hands she held a branch with flowered plum blossoms. She lifted out the chrysanthemums and replaced them with the plum blossoms.

"Did you come here to pay a final tribute to Hinamori-san as well? I am glad another student visited her before this day ended."

"I…I only really got to know her a short while ago. She never told me…I mean, I didn't know she…"

Unohana patted him on the shoulder.

"She didn't really tell anybody because she didn't want to be treated differently. Hinamori-san had leukaemia. She died seven weeks ago."

Unohana reached within her pocket and pulled out a small crane, which she placed upon the desk, just above her name.

"Cranes…that's right." Toshiro pulled out his own crane and let it sit in the palm of his hand. "She was always folding them."

"That's right. Whenever she was in the sickbay she would always fold them out of anything she could find. I even remember seeing one folded out of her medication list! One day she told me what she was wishing for." Unohana turned to face the vase. "I'm glad it came true in the end, Hinamori-san. You must be very happy."

Toshiro continued to stare at the small pink blossoms, petals fluttering in the breeze that flew into the room from a small window left ajar. Unohana walked towards the door, but stopped as Toshiro called out to her.

"What was her wish?"

With twinkling eyes, she smiled.

"To be able to spend time with a certain snowy-haired boy."

She exited, leaving Toshiro alone. He looked back at the crane in his hand and found himself smiling.

"I guess you were right, Hinamori. You didn't need to fold this last crane. Your wish came true before that, didn't it?"

* * *

Well, as you can probably guess, the inspiration from this came from the story of Sadako Sasaki. In Japan, it's customary to place flowers on the desk of a student who has passed away, and it's a Buddhist belief that when a person dies, their spirit wanders around the Earth for seven weeks while it's preparing for its reincarnation (though in this one-shot, Momo went to heaven). I sprinkled little clues about her death throughout this one-shot. Did you spot any?


	18. Help, Tetsudau

-laugh- I know I already mentioned it in my AN of _Dragon Lock, _but for anyone who doesn't read that fanfic, my internet's down ATM so review replies and updates may take longer than usual. Sorry!

* * *

**Theme 18: Help/Tetsudau  
**"_We can't help everyone, but everyone can help someone" – __Dr. Loretta Scott_

* * *

Cold.

That was my first thought as I stepped out of Oba-san's house, even whilst wearing my warmest jacket, boots and overlong scarf. Overnight the snow had piled up to the point where I found myself making waist-deep trenches. If I fell I would be plunged into a white world, disappearing from Oba-san's view.

The majestic pine trees dotting the surroundings of the house had branches laden with snow. It took ten steps to walk around their trunks – I counted. If a branch succumbed from the weight of its burden, I would have to dive to the side to avoid being bombed. Snow really hurt if it came down like that!

The sky was a vast expanse of tinted grey clouds, covering the whole world like a goose-down blanket. I raised my arms and tried to catch a cloud. After many failed attempts, I tumbled into the snow, telling the cloud that once I was all grown-up, I would catch it.

Everything seemed larger through the eyes of a six-year-old.

It was early morning and the main street of Juurian was deserted, not that the transition into the afternoon would remedy that much. Unless it was absolutely necessary to step out, most of the residents stayed inside, trying to gather all the warmth they could.

So when I ploughed my way into the wide street lined with closed market stalls, it was surprising to see another furrow disappearing into the distance.

Intrigued, I pushed forward until I stumbled into the other path. It was no wider than my own and the footprints indented into the ground pointed me into the right direction. I set off in a small trot with my arms swinging like pendulums.

Who could be out here?

It didn't take me long to spot a red scarf bobbing along somewhere in the near distance. It took longer to realise that it was a person as he had a head of hair that camouflaged with the snow that was chin-high for him. I slowed down, trying to maintain a perfect distance between us.

He wandered without aim through the district. Sometimes he would stop and look at his surroundings before continuing. The sun was hidden by thick masses of clouds, offering only drained rays. I rubbed my hands and wondered how that boy could wander around with only a single layer of clothing and a scarf.

Then without warning he disappeared. I found him a moment later though, thanks to his scarf. He was sitting down on the ground in a random street, at a random time, like his legs gave away due to fatigue. I ran up to him.

"Hey, are you okay?"

The boy looked at me, unblinking, before turning his gaze back at the wall of snow without replying. I leaned over and shook his shoulder.

"Are you cold? You're going to catch a cold if you stay outside without a jacket. You should go back to your place. I'll go there with you, if you want."

Even though my mittens I could feel the frigid temperature of his body. I saw goose bumps and a bluish tinge on his skin. He was cold, but he didn't shiver or rub his hands over his arms or bite the inside of his cheek – it was like he was distracted by something more painful. I tried to pull him up.

"Where am I?" he said, still not meeting my eyes.

"Huh?" I stopped tugging, surprised that he spoke. "Are you from another district? …Or did you just come here today?"

"…I don't know where I am."

His voice was hard, sharp and laced with pain. I realised that he must've been sent here today, on a day where there was no one outside who could help him. I almost cried because it was terrifying to imagine what would've happened if Oba-san didn't find me on the day that I came here.

"That's okay," I said, tugging the boy into a standing position. "You can come home with me. It's nice and warm, and Oba-san will let you live with us for sure!"

He allowed himself to be led without complaint. We walked in silence back to Oba-san's house, following the path we had made before. I could see the familiar thatched roof over the fruit stall when the boy spoke.

"Why?"

"Why what?"

"Why are you taking me here?"

I turned to face him, tilting my head in confusion as I thought the answer was obvious.

"Because it's cold outside and no one else was there to help you," I replied before leading him up the path. "Don't you hate being alone? I don't like it. It makes me feel cold inside, and it's already cold outside so that's even worse!"

"…My name's Hitsugaya Toshiro."

"Okay! I'm Hinamori Momo!"

We made it onto the front porch and I pushed Toshiro inside before following myself. The fire that Oba-san started this morning was burning as bright as ever. I sighed in comfort from the heat that radiated from the bright flames.

"Momo, is that you?" I heard Oba-san call out from around the corner.

"Yes, I'm back, Oba-san!" I called back. "And I brought a friend back too!"

Oba-san appeared around the corner and hobbled towards us, a kind and welcoming smile on her face.

"This is Hitsugaya Toshiro," I introduced. "Oba-san, he came here today, so can he stay with us? It's really, really cold outside so he can't go back out!"

"Of course he can, Momo, dear." Oba-san looked at Toshiro. "Would you like to stay here with us? Soul Society is a big place so it is very hard to find any family members. Almost everybody forms their own families here."

Toshiro nodded.

"Good, good; I'm sure you'll have a good time here in Juurian. Momo, be a dear and draw a bath for Hitsugaya-kun. Goodness knows how long he's been out in the cold!"

"No problem, Oba-san!"

I took Toshiro into the small bathroom and told him to wait there while I ran back to grab a towel. When I came back, Toshiro was leaning over the basin, turning the tap with his small hands.

"I can do that for you, Hitsugaya-kun," I said, placing the towel on the small stool.

"It's alright," he replied. "I can do it myself."

"Then I'll get the soap for you."

"I can get it myself."

"A-ah, erm…" I fidgeted with my hands, unfamiliar with this kind of stoic response. "W-well, do you need any help?"

Toshiro shook his head.

"Oh…um, alright then, I'll be outside if you need anything."

* * *

Since that frigid winter day there wasn't one moment where he accepted any offerings of help that I extended. As the years passed I discovered more about Toshiro. He was extremely kind and protective, but bashful about these qualities and hid them behind an icy exterior. Few dared to approach him because of his curt responses and his hard, narrowed eyes.

Most saw Toshiro as blunt, always shooting straight at the heart of the matter in the fewest of words, but I couldn't have had a more different opinion.

His methods of expressing himself were atypical and often they were interpreted in a negative light, far from what his true intentions were. Even after fifty years together, I was still trying to decipher this living enigma.

* * *

"Oba-san, I'm going out to the markets. I'll be back in an hour."

My ears pricked up at the sound of Toshiro's voice. The book I had been reading fell onto the mattress as I scrambled of my bed and bolted for the front door. I made it just in time to see Toshiro bending down to slip on his shoes and to hear Oba-san telling him to be careful.

"What do you think you're doing, Shiro-chan?" I scolded as I followed him out the door. "I thought you said that we were going to buy the ingredients together!"

"Be quiet, Bed-Wetter!" he snapped back. "Do you want Oba-san to hear everything?"

"Well maybe I wouldn't be yelling if you had just told me you were leaving now instead of trying to sneak off on your own like you always do!"

"Hmph. Whatever."

It was the day of Oba-san's birthday, and also the day before I was due to start my first day at the Shinigami Academy. A week ago I proposed to Toshiro that we do something in celebration of Oba-san's birthday – we decided to bake a cake. I was glad I was going to do something for her before my departure.

We had planned to go to the markets together in the morning to buy all the ingredients. It seemed Toshiro had other plans as I wasn't naïve enough to think that he had simply forgotten about our agreement. These were the times his independence irritated me.

"Almost…there…c'mon!"

I was leaning as far as I could without crushing the goods sitting in the front rows. Three eggs were already in the small basket beside my feet and I was straining myself to reach for a fourth. As my fingers were about to wrap themselves around the smooth, tan shell, someone plucked it out.

"Jeeze, Bed-Wetter, and you wondered why I wanted to go alone."

I looked across to see Toshiro holding the egg in his hand.

"What?" I screeched. "How did you get that? You're shorter than me!"

"Then it's fortunate that I'm smarter," he mumbled as he hopped of a wooden crate.

"Hmph. You're mean, Shiro-chan!"

"Don't call me that!"

Toshiro took possession of our basket laden with flour, eggs and salt. The merchant around the corner was selling butter and we even managed to purchase some chocolate, a rare luxury. We would fill our empty jug with water on our way home.

"Do you want me to carry anything?"

We were on our way back, having just passed the river. Toshiro was holding the basket in one hand and the sealed jug of water in the other. I, on the other hand, had nothing to hold and so far had failed to convince Toshiro to relinquish his grip on either load.

"No thanks, just watch where you're going," he replied, suppressing a sigh as I stumbled over a protruding tree root.

"But I have nothing to hold, and I don't want you carrying everything," I protested. "Come on, Shiro-chan, let me help you!"

"Not if you keep calling me that."

We were standing outside the front door. The key, of course, was with Toshiro. I could see him struggling to retrieve it from his pocket without dropping our ingredients. I took hold of the basket handle.

"I'll hold this while you get the keys."

"It's okay, Bed-Wetter!" Toshiro said, tightening his grip on the handle. "I can handle it myself."

"No you can't!"

"Yes I can!"

Angry and confused at his refusal to let me help, I braced my legs and gave the basket a sharp tug. I think we both underestimated the force behind my act, as the handle slipped from Toshiro's hand. Without his opposing weight, I lost my balance. I staggered, but the basket dropped to the ground. The next thing we heard was that undeniable sound of egg shells cracking.

I stared at the egg whites seeping through the apertures of the wicker basket, unable to speak. Eggs weren't the only things broken – my heart thudded painfully against my chest and I could feel an onslaught of tears rising. More painful than the reality of our birthday surprise being ruined was the realisation that Toshiro would never accept my help.

Was it because I wasn't as strong as him? Or because I wasn't as mature? Did he feel ashamed of me? I don't understand, Toshiro! Don't you like it when others offer you their help? I'm your friend! I want to help you because you are my friend, so why won't you let me?!

"I hate you, Shiro-chan!"

Blinded by tears, heart burning and mind unable to grasp the painful truth, I ran.

* * *

I couldn't take my eyes away from the basket, even though Momo was running away from me. Her final words juddered through my being; I was incapable of any other thoughts.

_I hate you, Shiro-chan!_

I pressed my palm against my forehead, shielding my eyes, hoping that if I lost sight of the basket, the pain would somehow ease its stinging bite. My stomach felt uneasy, as if something was jumping around in it. I felt as if my heart was stretched beyond its limits and twisted around a corkscrew.

What was this feeling?

"Toshiro?"

The door creaked open but I couldn't bring myself to look into Oba-san's eyes. Placing one arm around my shoulder, she led me inside. I sat down on the sofa, staring at the carpet between my knees. I felt Oba-san sit down beside me, and saw her worn hand settle upon my knee.

"What happened, Toshiro?" she asked, her tone soft and impartial. "Why were you and Momo fighting?"

"I…don't know," I said after a moment of silence.

My hands balled into fists as I replayed that incident in my head. That nameless feeling was eclipsed by anger and I found myself launching into tirade.

"I don't know why Hinamori's so angry at me to the point where she hates me!" I yelled to the carpet. "I haven't done anything wrong, and I can't believe that she would just overreact to something that trivial! She doesn't have anything to complain about! I do everything for her! She doesn't have to worry about forgetting something, or taking the responsibility if something goes wrong, or do anything boring or tiring or stressful!

"Doesn't she realise that I owe this to her?"

My chest was heaving, breaths came in short and my throat was stinging from waves of cold air rushing past its dry walls. I was angry that I was the reason behind her tears, angry at why everything was so confusing, and angry at why life couldn't be simple.

But I was also angry that Momo didn't understand why I never accepted her help.

How could I forget that debt I owe to her?

I couldn't remember much from my time in the World of the Living, because I was only alive for four years. However, even a child could not mistake that terrible, cold feeling of loneliness. I had started to form relationships and bonds that I was sure would last forever before I was thrown into the Soul Society. The cold of winter was nothing compared to the cold of loneliness, but it did nothing to alleviate such a terrifying feeling.

There were houses but no one was outside. The wind whistled though dead branches, leading me to believe I was in a ghost town, isolated. I couldn't shiver, I was numb. I found the strength to walk through the hope that I would be able to meet someone, would be able to escape the cold through a fireplace or the warmth of a touch.

For hours I wandered around the unfamiliar world, with nothing but my shadow – weakened from the feeble sunlight filtering through the clouds – to accompany me. It was inevitable that I soon collapsed, tired from walking, and tired of tempting my hope.

So when I heard a voice above me, I didn't dare to believe that someone was there, standing right next to me. It wasn't until she touched me that I dared to believe. Her voice was genuine in its compassion. Even through her mittens, I could feel the warmth of her touch. She guided me to her home, with promises of a future where loneliness would be left behind in my past.

Because of that, I could never forget, and I felt that I could never repay her. If Momo wasn't there to help me on that one, cold winter day, I would have believed that this world, and any other world, could offer nothing but the cruellest of feelings. When I needed it the most, she was there.

And from the moment I was allowed into the warmth, I gave her my life. I swore that I would repay the help she gave me for eternity.

Oba-san waited until my breathing calmed down before speaking.

"Toshiro, are you happy when you help Momo?"

"Wha? Of course!" I replied, distracted by the absurdity of Oba-san's question. "She's helped me so much, so of course I feel happy."

"Then think, Toshiro. If you feel happy when you help Momo, would it be wrong to assume that she also feels happy when she has the chance to help you?"

"I…I suppose…but Hinamori doesn't _have _to help me. She's already helped me more than I can help her."

"Toshiro, Momo is that kind of person: kind, compassionate, and always happy to help," replied Oba-san. "She would be upset if she knew that you think you ought to repay her help. Do you truly believe that Momo helps others because she wants some form of compensation? Is she really that kind of person?"

"…No…No, I don't think so, Oba-san," I whispered, my insides becoming unsettled once more. "She isn't…but then what can I do? She's done so much for me. I want to help her too…"

"Then you _can_, Toshiro. Help her when she is lost and doesn't know what to do. Help her when she is in danger. Help her when she asks and when you think she needs another hand, but let her fly free. Show her that you acknowledge her capabilities and that you view her as an equal.

"That is the greatest repayment you can give her."

I let Oba-san's words float in my mind as I reflected upon them.

"I think…I finally understand now, Oba-san," I said before rising from the sofa and heading for the front door. "Thank you. I'll go find Hinamori."

The undergrowth flattened with a sickening crunch as I sprinted through the forest that grew around our house. The sun was still high in the sky, but it was starting its descent into the east. I pushed my way through bushes with prickly leaves and past trees with trunks thick and thin, ignoring the small pieces of nature that caught my clothing and nicked my skin.

The forest was vast, but hardly intimidating as I've wandered through its depth even as a child. I knew where I was going, and somehow I knew that there, I would find Momo.

When the sunlight began to illuminate larger areas of the damp forest floor, I slowed down into a brisk walk. The trees thinned and grass of the deepest emerald sprouted from the ground. I found myself stopping when I reached the last row of trees that separated the forest from the glade. My stomach felt twice as uneasy from a combination of nerves and that nameless feeling.

Momo was sitting near the middle of the glade, her back turned towards me, knees tucked against her chest. The wind carried her faint sniffles to my ears. I saw her arm rise and wipe her eyes. How long has she been crying?

I bit my lips. I couldn't believe my own stupidity and twisted righteousness. They called me a kid genius, but my emotional quotient was centuries behind my intelligence. She was the last person I wanted to see upset, but by doing what I thought would make her happy, I achieved the complete opposite.

Oba-san was right. I showed no respect for Momo and treated her like a child who needed constant looking after. By never accepting her help, I insinuated that she was useless, troublesome…a burden, when in reality I considered her incapable of having any of those characteristics.

That feeling…I knew its name. It was shame.

I entered the clearing and walked up to Momo. She looked at me, but then turned her head to the side and rubbed at her red, puffy eyes.

"What – what do you want?" she choked out.

"Hinamori…" I broke off, sighing because knowing that I was wrong didn't make apologies any easier for me. "Hinamori, I – I'm sorry…I was wrong."

"Why? Why don't you ever want my help, Hitsugaya-kun? Am I really that useless-"

"No!" I interrupted. "Don't say that! I would never think of you as useless, Hinamori."

"Then why?"

"That's because…" I had to stop and look away from her intense gaze or I would have lost the nerve to continue. "Do you remember the day that we met?"

"Yes."

"I was only four years old at that time, and I was thrown into a strange world which was completely isolated…I didn't know what to do…until you appeared. Hinamori, that day, you saved me…and I feel as if I can never repay you."

"So you decided that you would do everything for me?" she asked, realisation dawning on her face. "You felt you had to do everything for me in order to replay me?"

Feeling sheepish, I nodded.

"And didn't it ever occur to you, Hitsugaya-kun," she started as her tone flared, "that I-"

"Helped me because you wanted to? And that you don't ever expect any form of compensation for your help?" I finished, a blush rising to my cheeks. "Yeah, Oba-san helped me figure that out. But look, Hinamori, please try and understand my logic, however twisted it may be."

"…Alright then."

I kneeled down in front of where she had planted herself and locked our eyes.

"And I'm asking you that not because I'll go back to the way I was before, but only because I want you to understand. I never meant to make you upset, Hinamori," I said before taking her hand and placing several coins in it. "From now on we'll do everything together, and I'll be there when you want my help.

"So…what do you say? Do you want to go get some eggs before it gets dark? We still have a cake to bake."

Momo looked at the three small coins sitting in the palm of her hands. She then looked up at me before breaking into a bright smile and flinging her arms around my neck.

"Yes! Let's go bake a cake together!"


	19. Change, Henka

Erm...guess who's got no internet again? Dammit all...

**

* * *

**

**Theme 19: Change/Henka  
**"_Things do not change. We change." – Henry David Thoreau_

* * *

Alright, I have to admit: during these past few months Momo has gotten…well…to put it bluntly (and when am I not, really?) she's gotten huge. When she comes into a room, it's not her face I see first; it's other parts of her body. It gave me a little shock the first time, but I think I'm getting used to it now.

I can't blame her though. She's been going through a lot and man is it making her moody. Naturally, her old clothes don't fit anymore, and it seems that as far as clothes go, the larger the size, the more plain and dated they are. She's pretty miffed right now – apparently splashes of lace and frills are in season, but there's something about extra-large and frills that doesn't quite work. Sometimes she goes through her wardrobe, looking at all the clothes that previously complimented her leaner figure and cries. It's worse than PMS.

She isn't used to the people staring at her when she walks through the streets. Probably isn't used to it because I never let any other male stare at her. And after I was through with them, they didn't have the ability to stare at anything for a good week…but I digress. Now that she's gotten, erm…fuller, most of those testosterone-filled boys just turn the other way when she walks past. I don't know why they go so pale. It's like they've never seen anything like it before and their discomfort disgusts me. Sure, Momo's gotten bigger, that doesn't mean squat. Is it really _that _awkward–

Hold that thought. Momo's having trouble reaching for the door handle. I push the door for her and enter first so I can hold it open for her. She comes through and turns to thank me. The next thing I know is that I'm on the floor, having been knocked over by her excess weight.

Hm, maybe I should reconsider my earlier question.

She apologises profusely but I gently wave off her extended hand of help, knowing that the chances of being knocked over again were pretty high if I accepted. Maybe that's why she refused me when I offered to help her take off her shoes. It's impossible for her to bend over and she can't reach them while sitting down either. I think she's being obstinate; she proves me right and wrong by kicking off her shoes (right by her being obstinate, wrong by taking off her shoes without my help). But guess who has to pick them up?

The small shopping bag that was swinging from her wrist is deposited on the living room sofa as Momo walks into the kitchen, no doubt hungry for anything lurking within the white metal box. There was a sale at her favourite clothes store today, and though it was three times too small for her, she bought that black lace shirt anyway. "I'll fit into it soon," she assured me. I didn't have room to argue the matter; she might have burst into tears.

Or into a rage.

But I've already talked about this whole moodier-than-PMS-time-of-the-month situation.

In the kitchen I see that half the fridge's contents have been scattered across the dining table. Armed with a pair of chopsticks, Momo goes about picking through the assortment of jars, tubs and plastic takeaway containers, throwing random bits of food pell-mell into a bowl to create a concoction that suits her palate. I wrinkle my nose as she tops her rice-chicken-asparagus-cheese-cashew-pineapple melange with a swirl of mayonnaise.

"Are you sure you can eat all that?" I ask while fetching my own bowl from the cupboard. I decide not to comment on her choice of complements.

"Of course I can, Toshiro," she replies before taking a large mouthful, grinning in delight.

I didn't doubt that, not for a second. She currently eats more than me, but I'm not the type of person who looks as if they eat a whole lot, so perhaps I'm not the best comparison. So let's say she eats more than Renji, which is also true (and just a little disturbing). Renji is notorious for staring up a food-shovelling contest at any table. I believe I have photo evidence of the first time Momo beat him at his own game. Then again, what else did he expect with her bulging stomach?

I top my bowl of rice with a modest mixture of soy chicken and stewed greens, and watch as Momo fills her bowl for the second time. All before I could get the first mouthful in. We finish at the same time, but it takes two glasses of milk before she is completely satisfied. It's almost like she's eating for two…

"Oh, Toshiro, come here! She's kicking!"

I smile as I push my chair back and place a hand over the growing little life inside my wife.

Alright, maybe she _is _eating for two.


	20. Silence, Mugon

As always, thank you to all those who have reviewed, placed this on alert and/or placed this in their favourites.

* * *

**Theme 20: Silence/Mugon  
**"_The deepest feeling always shows itself in silence." – Marianne Moore_

* * *

"So…Toshiro…"

Toshiro sighed. He didn't have to wait for the rest of the sentence. The way she drew out her 'O', the slight hesitation between her words and the coy tone she employed – Toshiro knew exactly what she was going to say.

And he knew exactly what he would reply.

"Momo…" he began wearily, "didn't we talk about this just last week? My answer's not going to change."

"Why not, Toshiro?" Momo demanded, her tone turning defensive. She jumped off the couch, planted her hands on her hips and glared down at her boyfriend. "Why are you so dead set against it? It's completely ridiculous-"

"Calm down, M-"

"No! I won't calm down." She jabbed her finger dangerously close to his face. "You listen here, mister. We've been together for ten years already! We've dated, we've moved in together and I've even gotten you to-"

"Don't bring that u-"

"-sing karaoke!"

Toshiro buried his head into his hands. Every time they talked (or rather, argued) about this matter, she would always dredge up that horrid memory. He honestly didn't know how she managed to talk him into it (he presumed he was under the influence of a few spirits), but what he did know was that this was a catalyst for-

"If you love me enough that you would completely embarrass yourself in front of a group of strangers singing Yui Horie's _Life, _then I would think that you would love me enough to propose to me! Is the thought of spending the rest of your life with me really that horrible?"

Her eyes were glistening, holding back angry tears as she tried to keep an intimidating scowl on her face. If the situation wasn't so serious, Toshiro would have laughed – that scowl wouldn't have scared a squirrel. Momo just didn't have it in her to be truly terrifying. But, he wouldn't put it past her to give him a few good slaps if he mentioned that now, so instead, he patted the cushion next to him and stared into her eyes, asking for the storm to calm. After a few stubborn moments, she relented and lowered herself back onto the sofa. He took her hands into his.

"Momo," he began as he rubbed his fingers in gentle circles on her skin, "believe me when I say that I love you. It was true when I first said it back in high school and it will always be true. What I don't believe is how society thinks I have to get down on one knee and say a few soppy words for it to be accepted that I love and want to spend the rest of my life with you. Would I have moved in with you if I didn't seriously think that?"

Toshiro slid closer and tilted her chin up so she had no choice but to look at him. "Would I seriously have let you use my toothbrush if we weren't going to spend out lives together?"

"Oh, Toshiro!" Momo pushed him away, trying to hide the small smile that formed despite her frustration. "That's not fair! It was Christmas night and all the shops were closed! And if I remember correctly, it was your fault that my toothbrush fell into the toilet in the first place!"

"Maybe if someone wasn't standing _right behind the door_ she wouldn't have tripped and dropped it," Toshiro muttered, but she heard all the same.

"Well maybe if someone had some manners and _knocked before he came in_ I wouldn't have tripped," she replied.

They laughed a bit, each reliving that one day before falling into a contemplative silence. The heated atmosphere in their modest apartment sixteen floors above the streets of Tokyo diffused and became genial once more. The afternoon sun streaked straight through the open window, across the carpeted floor and up the kitchen counter, where a small garden of herbs was sitting. The mix of furniture and embellishment clearly revealed that two very different souls resided in this apartment, but the way in which the seemingly mismatched pieces melded together in such a seamless fashion told a stronger tale of soul mates: a dark, varnished wooden dining table with soft white cushions upon the matching chairs, a semi-firm king bed with an equally large and downy quilt and a kettle next to a water cooler, both plugged in.

Walking around, there was something no one could escape: photos. Frames of all shapes and sizes, from store bought with gold rims to hand-made with spare buttons. They hung from the walls, lounged on shelved and perched on the mantelpiece. Some were faded, showing a little girl with her hair pulled into two pigtails and surrounded by her two older brothers and sister, or depicting a small boy dressed in a suit while his parents stood behind, equally impressive, waiting for the photographer to take their annual formal photo. Others captured the excitement of the teenage years: pulling faces at the camera with all your girlfriends or being reluctantly dragged into the picture of the giant keg of beer the guys couldn't go without.

Most however, showed a black-haired female and a white-haired male; worlds apart and yet together and smiling. The photos told their story: they grew up playing in the local playground; their first date was at the aquarium where they were stalked by their friends; right after completing their university degrees they went to England for their sixth anniversary and just last week they went out for Italian.

Not every day was smooth. They've fought, yes, just as fire and ice do, but neither would have it any other way. Finding warmth any other way would just be impossible.

"I'm feeling kind of sleepy." A yawn escaped from Momo's lips, as if to prove her point. "The sun feels nice here."

"Don't get too comfortable. We're going out for dinner tonight, remember?" Toshiro replied, prodding her to get up. "It takes an advance booking of at least three months to reserve a table at _Seasons at Tokyo_."

"Yeah, yeah," Momo muttered in reply, but rising up all the same. She began to make her way towards their bedroom when Toshiro grabbed her hand, stopping her. She looked back, eyebrow raised, inquiring.

"You know I love you, Momo. Do I need to say those words to you with a ring for you to believe me?"

She sighed but smiled at him. "Yeah, I know you do, and I believe you every time you say it. I love you too, Toshiro." She bent down and gave him a swift kiss before sliding her hand away from his and walking away.

* * *

The first thing one noticed when walking into _Seasons at Tokyo _was its seductive ambiance. The chandeliers that normally filled the dining room with a bright light were retired for the night. Instead, the light exuded from flickering candles and moonlight that could cast its silver glow unhampered as the waiters had made sure to draw back the heavy folds of velvet curtains. Tables were mostly for two, so the air was filled with a hum of sweet nothings, each patron encased with their significant other in their own private world.

The waiter led Toshiro and Momo to a secluded table adjacent to a large window that ran the height of the wall. The view was of a black, urban sea that twinkled with lights; they were sailing upon an ocean of stars. The waiter poured them a glass of champagne and took their orders. They sipped at the bubbling liquid as they talked about things that were neither here nor there, lost in the beauty of it all.

"Momo, are you alright?" Toshiro asked, setting down his knife and fork from his main of confit duck breast. "What are you looking at?"

Momo jumped and quickly turned back to face him, picking up her fork and skewering it through a scallop. "Oh! N-nothing! I just spaced out there for a moment."

As she laughed of the moment and worked vigorously on slicing through a sliver of fennel, Toshiro stole a glance to the side. At the far end of the room sat another couple. Well, to be precise, the woman was sitting, her hands cupped over her mouth in disbelief. The man was on his knee, a small velvet box in his hand and saying something Toshiro couldn't hear. However, he didn't have to. It was obvious what that man was saying. Toshiro resumed his dinner, but from the corner of his eyes he saw the tears trickling down the woman's face as the man slid the ring onto her finger. Then, lost in her happiness, she lunged forwards and embraced him, unmindful of their surroundings. The man returned the gesture in equal bliss.

Perhaps Momo noticed the newly-engaged couple as well, but she chose not to show it. She talked amicably with Toshiro, teased him and laughed in all the right places as they finished their mains. When the waiter cleared their table and assured them that their desserts would arrive in ten minutes, they fell into another silence which Toshiro broke.

"Momo…does a marriage mean that much to you?"

She looked taken aback, but knew there was little point in denying. "You know how much it does, Toshiro," she whispered. "I know you love me, and believe me, I know it's true whenever you say it and I know that we don't need a wedding to live together for the rest of our lives, but, well…"

She glanced out the window before continuing. "I guess it's just every girl's dream. That's what we dream about when we're five. We dream about the perfect white dress, the perfect bouquet, the perfect cake…and the perfect husband. But I've got you, Toshiro, so everything's all right." She broke off with a smile. "And I suppose knowing you, you might die with embarrassment with having to profess your undying love for me in front of my parents, neh?"

Laughing, she drew back a little and shook her head. "But all joking aside, with you, silence is louder than any words, and that's what I love about you. I wouldn't want you to change. Who knows? I might find it weird seeing you propose to me!"

"You know me too well, Momo," Toshiro grinned. "But maybe not that well yet. I was thinking about discussing this whole marriage thing after we're back home."

"Ugh! Of course! Once I manage to get you to seriously consider this whole marriage thing, you want to discuss it instead of surprising me with a beautiful ring!" Momo said in mock annoyance. "I have half a mind to drag you out of this table and make you watch _Lost with the Fireflies _with me. Now _that's _what a man who wants to get married is supposed to do! He's supposed to surprise his soon-to-be fiancée!"

"Calm down, Momo. You can drag me home once we're finished with dessert. Look, yours is coming right now."

"Well, seeing as it took so long to get reservations here, it would be a shame if I-"

Momo stopped mid-sentence, the remainder of her sentence lodged in her throat as she saw what was underneath the silver cloche the waiter had just lifted. Instead of her decadent chocolate layer cake with almond praline and caramel mousse, there was small, black velvet box inlaid with a small ruby on top. For a moment, she couldn't help but think the waiter had mixed up their orders. She looked across to Toshiro.

"Toshiro, this…"

"Open it."

And she did with shaking hands. Nestled in the folds of ink-coloured silk was a thin gold ring. A modest sized ruby sat on top accompanied by two tiny diamonds on either side. She'd seen this before. It was years ago, back around their second anniversary. All this time!

"I told you, didn't I?" Toshiro whispered in her ear, having gotten out of his seat when she was still staring at the ring in utter disbelief. "I don't have to say anything to prove that I want to spend the rest of my life with you and only you, Momo."

"T-Toshiro…you idiot," she said as the first of joyful tears rolled down her cheek. "You're not even going to ask?"

He kissed her on the temple. "As you yourself put it, my silence is louder than any words."

"At least put the ring on my finger for me."

"As you wish."

Toshiro lifted the ring from is silken bed and slid it onto Momo's slender finger. The ruby, a clear unblemished ocean of red, caught the firelight and glowed with a beautiful radiance. Toshiro's hands moved to her waist and he held her close as she admired the jewel that hugged both her finger and her entire body. Finally, she looked into his eyes, a flicker of child-like stubbornness she would never grow out of. He knew what was coming.

"Fine, you don't have to ask, but I'm going to answer anyway." She wrapped her arms around his neck and kissed him with the passion only a long-awaited fiancée could find. "Yes, Toshiro Hitsugaya, I do."


End file.
